Living In America
by maison de neener
Summary: Rent crossover. Maureen Johnson is just a normal teenaged girl, until a strange bearded man brings a tiny infant to her parents' home, saying that the boy is their cousin and his parents are dead. His name is Harry Potter. AU, rewrite.
1. Prologue

_Living In America_  
by: Neener!  
---

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, or RENT.. if you couldn't tell.

Notes: This is the rewrite of my story, Growing Up Bohemian. If you were a previous fan of GUB, you know how many problems I went through with it. Consider 'Living In America' a totally different story. It will have the same main idea, but I know I'm going to finish it this time. Enjoy!

And yes, this is just the prologue. I'm posting both the prologue and the first chapter together. Review!

**PROLOGUE**

"Vernon!"

"Mmf? Hm?" The man cracked open his eyes midsnore and looked at his wife, who was sitting straight up in their bed, clutching the sheets around her. "What is it?"

"The air just did something weird," Petunia whispered.

"Probably just a dream." Vernon rolled over to face her and stretched out his hand to pat her arm. "Come back to bed – "

"I'm going to check on the baby," Petunia said briskly. She slipped out of the room, leaving Vernon alone. He sighed deeply and closed his eyes.

* * *

"Mom, you're hurting me!" 

Vanessa Johnson looked disdainfully up at her twelve year old daughter, who had her fisted hands on her hips, her face tightened into a grimace. "I am not!" Vanessa replied as she grabbed more fabric from the back of Maureen's strange outfit and pinned it in place. "Calm down."

"Yeah, yeah," Maureen grumbled under her breath. She adjusted her weight from foot to foot and sighed deeply. It was late afternoon on Halloween, and the girl was eager to get out and go trick or treating with her friends. Now that she was twelve, her mother was letting her go out alone, for the first time in her entire life, and she was itching to get away. "Aren't you done yet?" she demanded. "I have to pee."

Vanessa replied lightly, "You asked me to adjust this dress you wanted to wear. It isn't my fault you waited until the last minute." Maureen would have taken offense, had her mother's tone of voice been serious.

Gingerly, Maureen adjusted the wig that covered her dark, curly hair. The inside of the wig itched her scalp, but what it lacked in comfort, it more than made up for in appearance. The wig was downright ugly: faded blue, with horrible plastic hair cut short and curled. Maureen was delighted with it, because it made her look just like her grandmother, whom she was being for Halloween. In fact, Maureen's grandmother Ellen was being Maureen for Halloween as well, and had suggested the entire idea.

It was a common stereotype that old ladies in nursing homes had blue hair, but Ellen actually did She was every generic thing you could think of for a crazy old lady: she was short, wrinkled, wore ugly clothing, and kept pictures of cats all around her room in the home.

Maureen loved her.

"You think Gran is having a good time?" she wondered out loud, casting a look down towards her mother.

Vanessa rolled her eyes. She disapproved of the entire getup, but kept her comments to herself. The resemblence between Maureen and Ellen, at that moment, was uncanny, even she had to admit.

"I'm sure Gran is having a lovely time," Vanessa answered, finally finishing up taking in Maureen's costume, which was one of Ellen's old tweed dresses, coupled with a pair of dark brown stockings. "I just hope she doesn't get into too much trouble at the nursing home."

Maureen snorted at her mother's concerned tone of voice. "Gran is always in trouble at the nursing home."

"Don't you think you're getting to be a little old for trick or treating?" Vanessa asked, changing the subject. "That Claire girl across the street stopped celebrating Halloween two years ago."

"Well, that Claire girl has a stick up her ass," Maureen declared, putting her hands on her hips.

Vanessa, shocked, cried, "Maureen! Language!" Her daughter only rolled her eyes and readjusted her wig. "I'm just trying to be helpful, sweetheart, you know that. I just think that you're – "

Then, a very strange thing happened.

The air all around them seemed to intensify and thicken, before blooming outwards in what felt like a giant animal exhaling. Maureen almost fell off of her chair. It was like a shockwave of air.

It was over in less than a second.

"What was – ?" Vanessa began, though her inquiry was interrupted by a yell from outside. Mother and daughter exchanged dramatic, worried looks; Richard Johnson, Maureen's father, had gone out to get the mail only a few minutes previously.

"Dad?" Maureen called.

"God dammit!" Richard swore from outside. Maureen and Vanessa walked into the living room to see what had happened. They could hear his voice from the other side of the front door. "Damned static electricity! I touched the doorknob, and it knocked me right over…Jesus Christ…" He continued to mutter under his breath.

Maureen stifled a laugh. Vanessa lightly hit her on the shoulder chidingly. "Don't laugh at your father," she scolded.

Her daughter made a face and looked around. "That air thing was weird."

Vanessa still had no idea what it was, so she brushed it off. "It was probably nothing," she said nonchalantly. "You'd best get ready for tonight – that is, if you still want to go," she added hopefully.

Maureen ignored her mother. "I'll get my bag and we can drive down," she said, prancing back into the kitchen to grab her pillowcase. Vanessa set about locating her car keys and smiled at Richard when he came back into the house, still grumbling about static electricity.

Their daughter appeared in the living room again, dragging her coat behind her. "This is going to be a great Halloween, I can tell!" she exclaimed. She hurried out of the door without even acknowledging her father, though he was obviously distracted by going through the mail, his brow furrowed. "Come on, Mom!"

"I'll be back in five minutes," Vanessa told her husband. "I have to drive Maureen to Ashley's." Richard made a small noise. "Richard? Hello? Are you listening to me?"

"Hm? Oh, yes. I'll see you," he said distractedly. Vanessa rolled her eyes and headed out of the house.

* * *

"So, did you have a good time?" Vanessa asked later that night as she drove a very tired Maureen home. 

The girl was physically exhausted, but still excited off of the energy of the holiday. "You bet! It was great! Let it go down in history that the Halloween of 1981 was the best Halloween ever!"

Vanessa smiled.


	2. Let Love In

_Living In America_  
By: Neener!  
---

Notes: This is the first real chapter; it's a bit long… enjoy & review!

The beginning of this chapter is from Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone, which I do not own, if you couldn't tell. Don't get all mad at me.

(A + next to a sentence in the chapter means I took a line out of the first chapter. There are so many important lines in the first chapter of SS that there's no way I could recreate it. Don't kill me! The original stuff gets on later. XD Yeah, and the chapter title is a Goo Goo Dolls song. I LOVE THE GOO GOO DOLLS.)

Be sure to review!

* * *

**CHAPTER ONE**  
let love in

November 1, 1981.

_A man appeared on the corner the cat had been watching, appeared so suddenly silently you'd have thought he'd just popped out of the ground. The cat's tail twitched and its eyes narrowed._

_This man's name was Albus Dumbledore._

_Albus Dumbledore didn't seem to realize that he had just arrived in a street where everything from his name to his boots was unwelcome._

_He sat down on the wall next to the cat. He didn't look at it, but after a moment he spoke to it._

_"Fancy seeing you here, Professor McGonagall."_

-from Harry Potter & The Sorcerer's Stone, pages 8-9

Minerva McGonagall considered herself to be a very calm woman. In the face of danger, she liked to think that she would face harm with a brave face, her wand raised and ready to fight. However, she had never thought that this was the kind of danger she would be facing: the danger of making a decision that could change a one year old orphan's life.

"You know what everyone's saying? About why he's disappeared? About what finally stopped him?" she asked her companion, Professor Albus Dumbledore, who was fiddling with someone in his pocket. "What are you doing, Albus?"

"Unsticking a lemon drop," he said calmly, extending his palm, which held said lemon drop, towards her. "Would you like one?"

"_No_," Minerva replied, a bit exasperated. "Is it true?" Albus said nothing and popped both lemon drops into his mouth. Minerva pressed on. "What they're saying is that last night, Voldemort turned up in Godric's Hollow. He went to find the Potters. The rumor is that Lily and James Potter are – are – that they're – _dead_."+

There was a long silence before Albus bowed his head. Minerva gasped frightfully with her hand to her mouth. "Lily and James…oh, I can't believe it…" She trailed off and twisted her hands in her lap. Albus patted her arm soothingly. Lily and James Potter were a young, happy couple with a one year old son, their lives seemingly perfect. Both were former students of Minerva's. "That's not all, though. They're saying he tried to kill the Potter's son, Harry, too. But…he couldn't. He couldn't kill that little boy. No one knows why – or how – but they're saying that when he couldn't kill Harry Potter, Voldemort's" – she shuddered – "power somehow broke – and _that's _why he's gone."+

Albus nodded once again.

Minerva gasped yet again. "It's true?" She put her hand to her heart. "After all Voldemort has done? _All_ the people he's killed? He couldn't stop just a little boy…but why? How could Harry have survived an attack like that?"

"We may never know," said Albus. "The important thing is that Harry is alive."

Minerva agreed and sat in thoughtful silence as Albus checked a strange watch he was carrying. Her thoughts were raging. Voldemort, the most powerful Dark wizard in history, was destroyed by a barely one year old boy. How was it possible? Just the thought of Lily and James' son in danger made Minerva shudder.

Her thoughts were cut short by Albus' calm voice. "Hagrid is late. I suppose it was he who told you I'd be here, by the way?"+

"Yes," Minerva said. "It don't suppose you're going to enlighten me as to why we're here, of all places in the world?"

Albus replied, as if it were the most normal thing in the world, "I've come to bring Harry to his aunt and uncle. They're his family now."+

Minerva, aghast, jumped to her feet, pointing her finger accusingly at Number Four, Privet Drive. "You can't mean the horrible people who live here?! Albus – you can't. I watched them all day – they're absolutely miserable. They're got this son – oh, Merlin's beard, I saw him kicking his mother all the way up the street, screaming for sweets! Harry Potter, live here?"+ She shook her head and put her hands on her hips.

"It's the best place for him," said Albus in a firm voice. "They'll explain everything to him when he gets a bit older."

Minerva looked accusingly at him, so he added, "I've written them a letter."+

Minerva McGonagall had never felt more irritated in her life – irritated at both Albus for assuming that Harry would be happy with these horrible Muggles, and irritated at herself for being irritated with Albus. It was all very exasperating.

"Really, Albus," she said in frustration, sitting back on the wall, "You think you can explain all of this in a letter? These people will never understand him. Harry is going to be famous – every child in the world will know his name – "+

"Exactly," Albus replied firmly. "I would much prefer Harry to grow up without his head turned and inflated. Everyone will be talking about him, everywhere he goes. Can't you see how much better off he'll be, growing up away from all that until he's ready for it?"+

Minerva opened her mouth and then closed it, thinking. "Yes," she finally said quietly. "You're right, of course. But…how will he get here, Albus?" She glanced around the street as if expecting Harry to pop out of the bushes.

"Hagrid is bringing him," Albus said conversationally.

Minerva looked skeptical. "Do you think it's – _wise_ – to trust Hagrid with this?"

"I would trust Hagrid with my life,"+ said Albus. Minerva sighed. Albus trusted everyone.

There was a sudden rumbling sound, breaking the heavy silence. Minerva looked up into the sky as the rumbling grew louder, sounding like thunder; it swelled to a deep roar as a motorcycle suddenly fell out of the sky, onto the road in front of them. The motorcycle was huge; the man sitting on it was huger. He looked almost too big to be allowed,+ but Minerva and Albus both knew that he was harmless.

"Hagrid," said Albus, looking relieved. "At last. We were worried. Where did you get that motorcycle from?" Minerva was also curious.

"Borrowed it, Professor Dumbledore, sir," said the giant man, climbing off of the motorcycle. "Young Sirius Black lent it to me." He opened his vast arms to expose a bundle of blankets. "I've got him, sir."

"No problems, were there?" Minerva asked.

"No, ma'am," Hagrid replied respectfully. "The house was almost destroyed, but I got him out all right before the Muggles showed up."

Albus and Minerva approached Hagrid and bent to look into the bundle of blankets. Inside was a tiny boy, fast asleep, his jet black hair falling over onto his forward. Barely visible beneath it was a strange shaped scar, like a bolt of lightening.

"Is that where -- ?" whispered Minerva, looking as if she wanted to brush the hair out of the boy's eyes, but restraining herself.

"Yes," said Albus. "He'll have that scar forever."

"There's nothing you can do?" Minerva pressed.

"Even if I could, I wouldn't. Scars can come in handy, you know," Albus told her. "I have one myself above my left knee that is a perfect map of the London Underground."+ Minerva sighed deeply but said nothing. "Well – give him here, Hagrid – we're better get this over with before the Dursleys wake up."

Albus took Harry in his arms and walked briskly towards the Dursleys' house, Minerva and Hagrid trailing behind.

* * *

Petunia Dursley was an obsessive cleaner, so much that she wiped down almost every surface in the house before she went to bed, no matter how tired she was. Before she went to bed, she would lay beneath the covers, staring at the ceiling, thinking to make sure she had done everything that needed to be done for the day.

On this particular night, Petunia was half asleep when she suddenly jolted awake, remembering that she hadn't wiped out the microwave. She cursed herself silently for being so forgetful and then slipped out of bed, after moving her husband's large arm off of her. She slipped on her robe and slippers and hurried down the stairs, towards the kitchen.

However, she was stopped dead in her tracks by voices outside. _Robbers,_ was her first thought, and she took a hesitant step back to get her husband. However, Petunia was more nosy than paranoid, and wanted to know what was happening – so she stepped forward again, straining her ears to hear the bits of conversation.

It sounded like a man crying, and then an older woman saying in a comforting way, "Yes, it's all very sad, but get a grip on yourself or…" Petunia strained harder. "Or we'll be found."

It seemed as if these people right outside her doorway.

There was the sound of something being put down, and more sniffles.

"Don't you think it's a bit cold?" the crying man asked, his deep voice rumbling.

"Harry will be fine," an unfamiliar voice said reassuringly. "It's a warm night for November."

_Harry?_ Petunia racked her brain. That was the name of her sister's baby. She brushed it off as just a coincidence.

"But – what if it starts raining?" the deep voice asked hopefully. "Can't we jus' take him to Hogwarts?"

_What the hell is a Hogwarts?_ Petunia wondered. She thought that maybe she was dreaming.

"Or can we at least ring the doorbell?" the man continued in the same hopeful voice.

"No," the woman said firmly. "They will find him in the morning."

Petunia realized that she had crept all the way towards the door and had her ear pressed to the wood. _Find who?_ She thought wildly, before her natural nosiness took over and she threw open the door.

After taking in the entire scene – the tall, thin, bearded man in purple robes, the strict looking woman in green robes, and a giant man who resembled a bear, peering into a bundle of blankets that was sitting on the doorstep – Petunia screamed and slammed the door. She ran up the stairs, completely frightened out of her mind, and leapt the last ten feet into her bedroom, landing on top of her large husband, who awoke with a yell.

"What in the name of God – " Vernon Dursley shouted once he saw his frightened wife, who was shaking his shoulders. "What is it, Petunia? Is there a mouse?"

Petunia would have taken offense that her husband would ever think there would be a mouse in her perfectly sanitary home, but she brushed that off. "There are strange people outside!" she wailed.

At the word 'strange', Vernon was up, pulling on his bathrobe around his great girth and thundering down the stairs, with Petunia trailing closely behind him. Vernon threw open the door, exposing the three strange people and the bundle of blankets on the doorstep.

"What in the blazes are you doing?" he hissed.

All of them looked at a loss of what to say. Finally, the tall, bearded man to the right replied calmly, "Petunia, your sister is dead."

Petunia clapped her hand to her mouth in shock, but before she could say anything, Vernon shouted, "What's going on here?!"

The woman all the way to the left gestured to the bundle on the ground. Vernon looked towards it and his piggy eyes narrowed, then shot open in confusion. It was a baby. Petunia leaned over her husband's shoulder, her face entirely white. "Who is that?" she whispered.

"Harry Potter," the woman replied briskly. "He is your charge now."

"Bloody hell he is!" Vernon roared.

"Vernon – " Petunia said in a pleading voice, looking down at the boy.

"I'll have no bloody magic in my home!" her husband interrupted, glaring at everyone and everything in the general vicinity.

The three people standing outside got identical looks of confusion, disappointment, and anger on their faces. The huge man standing a little to the back made to take a step forward, growling under his breath, but the woman threw an arm out against his chest to stop him and bent down, pulling out an envelope from the blankets holding Harry. She slapped the letter to Vernon's huge chest angrily and then pulled her hand away.

"If you're going to be a waste of our time," she snapped, "don't be a waste of our parchment."

Vernon's eyes narrowed but he tore open the letter and began to read, Petunia over his shoulder. His lips moved silently, forming the words, his eyes narrowing more and more as he continued through the words. When it appeared he had finished, there was silence in the air for a moment before Vernon tore the letter to little pieces and sprinkled them on the ground.

"Leave and don't come back," Vernon growled.

"Dear," Petunia said reasonably, "don't you think – ?"

"You want a freak living in our house?!" her husband shouted at her. She recoiled, but there was obvious horror in her face. My home, she thought fearfully, my son, everything would change. When she said nothing, Vernon turned back to the strangers. "Leave," he repeated, "and don't come back. Or I'll call the police." He stepped backwards and slammed the door.

The sound seemed to echo throughout Privet Drive. They stood there, staring at the door, as Harry stirred in his blankets and whimpered.

"Perhaps we should leave," Minerva whispered, horrified. Even Albus seemed at a loss for what to do. "The neighbors are waking up…so is Harry." She bent down and carefully picked up the baby, cradling him in her arms. Hagrid looked incredibly angry.

"I'd like to get my hand on that great prune," he growled. "Turning away one o' his own!"

"Hagrid," Albus said slowly, "I think you should return Sirius' bike to him."

Hagrid stared at him. "But, Professor Dumbledore, sir, what about Harry?"

"I will take care of him," Albus promised. "Please, hurry on – I will see you at Hogwarts very soon." Hagrid still looked skeptical and hesitated for a moment before bidding goodbye to them and turning back to the motorcycle. He sped away into the sky, disappearing from sight. "We need to Apparate out of here," Albus said calmly. "Come, Minerva, there is a deserted park nearby where we can go."

"Can we not go to Hogwarts?" Minerva begged. However, Albus had already walked away from her and turned on his heel, disappearing with a pop. With a deep sigh, Minerva followed him, going through the same motions of turning, clutching Harry to her chest. There was a rush of air, and when she opened her eyes, they were standing in the center of a large children's park, with swings, a slide, and a several seesaws.

She looked around and spotted Albus sitting on one of the swings nearby, looking thoughtful. She walked over to him and then reluctantly sat down on the one next to him.

There was silence.

"What do you plan on doing?" she asked quietly.

"I don' t know," Albus replied in a grave tone. "I had expected Mr. and Mrs. Dursley to take Harry in. Obviously, I severely misjudged them." His eyes were half-narrowed in what Minerva judged as anger, but then he sighed, his body slumping. Minerva shifted Harry in her lap.

"Perhaps it's for the best," Minerva suggested. "If we had left him there, they may have thrown Harry into an orphanage or mistreated him." She shivered at the thought. "I know what Harry to be humble, Albus, but you don't want him to be abused."

Albus bowed his head. "You are right," he conceded.

There was another long silence before Minerva said delicately, "We could raise him at Hogwarts." When Albus said nothing, she pressed on, "You said before that it was not an option, but if there's no where else for him to go…"

Albus raised his head to look off into the distance. "But there is another place he could go," he replied quietly. Minerva's brow furrowed and she asked what he meant. "I had not considered it before," he admitted, "for it seemed like such a farfetched concept, but…Harry does have other family besides the Dursleys."

Minerva let out her breath in relief. "Oh, thank heavens! Do they live far from here?"

A slight smile crossed Albus Dumbledore's face and he chuckled under his breath.

"That would depend on what you mean by _far_."

* * *

Maureen Johnson and Petunia Dursley had more in common than they would ever actually know. Both were incredibly nosy, both gossiped like nobody's business, and both had very strict nightime rituals. However, twelve year old Maureen Johnson's did not involve very much cleaning. She would sit in the kitchen with her mother for about half an hour, drinking pomegranate tea and telling her mother everything that was happening in her life. After tea, she would go upstairs, get change into her pajamas, and paint her nails an insane new color – lime green, dark purple, cranberry red, it didn't matter; Maureen loved colors – and then read poems out of her Shel Silverstein book. She usually read them out loud, her voice at barely a whisper, as she practiced her different accents. Maureen was very good at doing accents.

On this particular night, however, Maureen was running a bit late on schedule. It was the day after Halloween, so she was totally hyped up on sugar and thus, was not tired. Vanessa Johnson, her mother, was having a hard time dealing with Maureen bouncing off of the wall and had refused to give her any sugar with her tea.

At that moment, they were arguing about just that. Richard Johnson was sitting in the living room, idly reading a newspaper and listening to his wife and daughter's cheerful banter.

"Maureen," Vanessa finally said, exasperated, "I'm not going to give you any sugar in your tea. Drink it and then go to sleep."

"I'm not tired!" Maureen exclaimed. By the sound of Vanessa's yelling, Richard guessed that Maureen had just gotten up and stood on the table. "Come on, Mom," she whined, "you're messing up my schedule! I need tea or I can't sleep!"

"So drink your tea, then," Vanessa said firmly. "Either that or just go up to bed. You can't stay up all night, see if I care." Richard knew that Vanessa was just being dramatic – his wife and daughter had that in common. Maureen grumbled but there was silence in the kitchen for several moments. "See, was that so hard?" Vanessa said cheerfully. Richard could hear the dishwasher running. "Now, you should go up to bed."

Maureen's protest was drowned out by two sudden cracks from outside, sounding like a whip. Maureen tore through the living room to press her nose against the glass and look out into the darkness; Vanessa followed suit. Neither of them could see anything.

"What was that!" Maureen exclaimed excitedly. Her overactive imagination raced and eventually settled on the idea that were was an ax murderer outside their house. She squealed happily.

"It was probably just a car muffler exploding or a cat knocking over a trashcan," Richard said calmly, turning the page in his newspaper. He hadn't moved from his spot on the couch. "Calm down, you two."

Vanessa and Maureen stayed by the window, despite his explanation, but when nothing happened for several moments, Maureen was highly disappointed. She pulled away from the window and crossed her arms. _The least there could have been was an explosion, _she thought, twisting her lips into a pout.

Then, there was a knock at the door.

Maureen jumped about an five inches into the air and shrieked at the top of her lungs before hiding her face in her mother's blouse. It was a common misconception that Maureen wasn't afraid of anything. She liked to imagine that there were serial killers with half a face lurking outside her window, but if a real one actually came into her room, she thought she would die of fright.

Richard ignored the scared looks on his wife and daughter's faces and went to open the door. Maureen gulped, her heart pounding, but her fear dissipated only a moment later when she saw who was at the door. _If they were ax murderers, they certainly were strange ones,_ she decided.

It was a man and a woman, both tall and thin and much older – the man was old enough to be her grandpa – and both wore identical expressions of what looked like hope. The man's beard and hair were both white and extremely long; the woman's black hair was pulled into a tight bun at the nape of her neck, and she was carrying a bundle of blankets in her arms. Maureen was very confused, but also delighted – it wasn't often that people in Hicksville got strange visitors in the night. _Especially ones who wear weird dresses,_ she thought after a closer examination of their clothing.

"Oh, hello," Richard finally said in a curious tone of voice. "Can I…help you?"

"Certainly," the man replied in a cheerful voice. He had a British accent. "I'm Albus Dumbledore, and this is Minerva McGonagall."

_Note to self,_ Maureen thought,_ name firstborn son Albus. And Minerva is the goddess of wisdom._ She drew herself up proudly; Maureen loved mythology.

"Oh," Richard replied, brows furrowed. Then, a moment later: "_Ohhhh_." He smiled. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you." He extended his hand and Albus shook it. Maureen exchanged glances with her mother. _What the hell?_ "And you as well, Professor." He shook Minerva's hand as well. _Professor? How did he know she was a professor?_ Maureen frowned.

"I'm quite sorry for intruding so late at night," Albus said in an apologetic voice.

"It's no trouble at all," Richard said kindly. "Please, come in."

Albus and Minerva sat down on the couch next to each other, Minerva still holding the bundle of blankets in her arms. Maureen threw herself into the armchair nearby and stared at them, entranced. This was more excitement than she could ever hope for.

Richard introduced Vanessa and Maureen to the two strangers; Maureen half-smiled at them and then went back to studying their clothes. She decided that they weren't wearing dresses – they looked like strange robes, she thought, with cloaks over them. _I want a robe,_ she thought.

Vanessa made tea; after some polite conversation and much staring on Maureen's part, Richard finally asked the question everyone wanted to ask: "Why are you here?" Maureen thought it would have sounded rude, but her father was an extraordinarily polite man. He could probably make 'go to hell' sound courteous.

Albus adjusted his half-moon spectacles (Maureen thought that she would like to borrow those one day) and sighed deeply. Maureen leaned forward in her seat and didn't take her eyes off of the two strange people; not even when Vanessa, who was sitting in the armchair next to her, gave her a face-melting glare.

"Unfortunately," Albus said with a sigh, "it isn't happy news that brings me here tonight. I'm afraid that your niece and her husband were killed last night."

"Lily?" Richard looked thunderstruck. "Not _Lily_."

Albus bowed his head and Minerva looked away. Maureen frowned. _Who is Lily? My dad's niece? That would make her my…cousin, maybe? And she's dead._ Her stomach twisted uncomfortably._ I'll never get to meet her._

"Oh, jesus," Richard sighed, rubbing at his temples with his fingertips. "That's…_shit_. They're both dead? Her and James?"

_Who was James? Why do I know so little about my family?_ Maureen inwardly groaned.

"How?" Richard asked bluntly.

Albus examined his hands and then looked up. "Lily and James were killed by the dark wizard Voldemort." _Dark wizard?_ Maureen made a face. That didn't make any sense at all. "They died protecting their only child, Harry." Maureen decided that this was very heroic. "Earlier tonight, Minerva and myself planned on taking Harry to relatives in Surrey" – Maureen had no idea where that was, but decided it must be in England or something – "but unfortunately, that didn't quite work out as planned."

It did not go unnoticed by Maureen that Minerva's face had turned from quietly polite to quietly angry. Her lips had become so thin Maureen thought they might disappear from her face.

"A good friend, Rubeus Hagrid, took Harry from his house and brought him to Surrey, meeting us there," Albus continued. Maureen noticed that her father had dropped his forehead into his hands and was staring at the ground. She felt a rush of sadness for him. "However, the family that we planned on leaving Harry with…refused to take him in." He said this last part carefully, as if his words were stepping across a pile of glass.

"_Refused_ is putting it lightly," Minerva said in an irritated voice. She also had an accent. "They wouldn't even speak to us. Turning away her own nephew! I can't believe it." Maureen frowned and felt irritation as well. Who in their right mind would turn away an orphaned child whose parents had just been killed? Especially a relative –

Maureen froze and her eyes darted to the blankets in Minerva's arms. She suddenly realized what they held. A baby.

She sucked in breath and tried to keep from jumping up and down. They were getting a baby! Maureen had always wanted a brother to boss around.

"I was unsure of what to do after Harry's relatives decided they didn't want him," Albus continued, "but we came to the conclusion that this would be the best place to bring him."

His words seemed to echo in the small living room. Maureen was wiggling excitedly in her seat; Vanessa and Richard, however, looked dumbstruck. They both stared at Albus like he had just grown three heads.

"Bring Harry?" Vanessa said dumbly. "For him to live? Here?"

"You are his only remaining relatives," Minerva said. There was a tone of desperation in her voice that Maureen was sure really, really meant something. It was obvious that Harry needed to stay there. Maureen, however, wasn't afraid that her parents would turn the baby away – she knew that they couldn't refuse.

"I'm not trying to be devil's advocate here or anything," Richard replied slowly, "and I'm not turning Harry away – but there really isn't another place Harry could be taken? I'm sure Lily has several friends that would – love" – Maureen knew her father was about to say _die_ – "to have Harry."

There was complete silence, but someone might as well have been talking, because everyone was paying attention to Albus as he put his fingertips together and looked at them calmly. He finally looked up at the Johnsons and said, "Lily died protecting her son. It's that blood protection that Harry needs – he must live with a relative for that to come into effect."

"Blood protection?" Maureen blurted out, unable to stop herself. "Is that even real?" She knew she sounded rude, but she didn't care. She wanted answers.

"It certainly is," Albus replied with a slight smile.

"Wouldn't Harry be safe anywhere he goes, though?" Maureen pressed. "I mean, he's just a baby, and if there are people around him, he would be safe." She looked around at her family and at the two guests. "Is there something I'm missing here?"

Minerva and Albus exchanged looks full of meaning. Maureen shifted in her seat and put her chin in her hand, waiting for an answer. Finally Albus said, "When Lily died for Harry, he became protected. As long as he lives with a relative, that sacrifice will protect him – it is vital that it does."

"Yes, but why?" Maureen pressed.

"So Voldemort cannot kill him," Minerva said bluntly.

Maureen frowned. "Why would Voldemort want to kill a baby?" Saving them from answering, she continued, "Who is Voldemort anyway? Why does he kill people?"

"Voldemort is a dark wizard," Albus said with no hesitation. Vanessa let out a strained laugh before becoming silent again. Maureen looked from her mother to father, the latter of which was staring at the floor.

"Yes, but, wizards don't exist," Maureen replied impatiently.

"You would be surprised," Albus said lightly. Maureen stared.

"You mean, there's like, magic and stuff?!" she exclaimed, almost jumping out of her seat. "Are you serious?"

They both nodded. Maureen's mind began to race. _Magic!_ She drew herself up proudly._ I always knew there was magic, _she told herself._ I knew I couldn't be wrong._ However, she did want to see it in action. "You're both – both, magical, right?" Albus and Minerva nodded. "Here – do magic on this – " She picked up her teacup, which had been on the coffee table, and dumped its contents onto the rug. Vanessa made an irritated sound.

Albus extracted a long, thin stick from his robes and pointed it at the puddle of tea on the floor. "_Scourgify,_" he said clearly, and the tea promptly disappeared. Vanessa was staring at Albus like she wished he would come to their house and do magic all the time.

Maureen's mind raced with the possibilities. "You're a …you're magical too?" she asked, her question directed at Minerva. The woman nodded.

"Did you know about this?" Maureen demanded of her parents.

"No," Vanessa said.

"Yes," Richard answered.

Maureen and Vanessa both turned on the man, but before they could start shouting, Albus interrupted, "Perhaps that is a conversation for another time. But at the moment, Harry is in need of a home."

Vanessa, Richard, and Maureen all froze and blushed, embarrassed that they had been on the verge of an argument when a boy's life was at stake.

Vanessa took in a shaky breath and then said quietly, "I would be willing to take Harry in."

Maureen looked at her father meaningfully. It was up to him, but she knew he couldn't refuse. Still, knowing his answer would be _yes_ didn't make it any less exciting.

Her father sighed deeply and sat back in his chair. "If it means protecting my niece's son, I will gladly take Harry in."

Maureen nearly leapt out of her chair but restrained herself. "OH MY GOD YES" exploded from her mouth and she pumped her fist in the air. She considered throwing herself at her father but was saved the embarrassment by Albus interrupting.

"I'm sure that Harry will be very happy here," he said with relief. Minerva was actually smiling – Maureen got the impression this was very rare for her. "However…there are several important things we must discuss. Minerva, if you please." Albus stood and walked to the door as if to leave, but instead he crouched in front of it and pulled out that piece of wood again – Maureen decided it must be a wand, and promptly wanted one – and tapped the door. Silvery threads of light spun out from the tip of his wand, spreading across the door, before they exploded outwards, engulfing the entire wall – windows and all – in silver. Maureen was enchanted as the light ran its course around all the walls of the living room, disappearing down the hall and into the kitchen – she was sure the silver was creeping upstairs as well. Before she could ask what had happened, however, Albus stepped outside, closing the door behind him.

She looked curiously at Minerva, who had handed the blanketed Harry to Vanessa. Maureen's mother was cradling the baby with the utmost of care – they even kind of looked alike, Maureen thought happily. However, her thoughts were diverted by where Albus had wandered off to.

Minerva seemed to understand this and so answered, "Albus is installing some safety charms outside your home. Blood protection is excellent; safety charms will help even moreso. Harry will be safe here, and so will you."

She folded her hands in her lap. "There are other things we must discuss. Harry is a wizard – he possesses magical abilities." Maureen leaned forward, drinking in every word. "Magic, however, cannot simply be used without any training. Harry may attend a public school until it is time for him to receive a magical education. There are two wizarding schools in America: one is in San Francisco, and another in Boston." Maureen twisted her hands together excitedly. She had been to Boston several times, since her cousins lived there. _Next time I go, I'll have to do some investigating,_ she decided. Minerva continued, "He could also attend a magical school in Scotland, the one that his parents graduated from. Harry's options are quite open, but it's important that he receives a magical education. I know you will make sure of that."

"Of course," Richard said weakly.

"When do we tell him?" Vanessa asked, never taking her eyes off of the face of Harry. Maureen strained her neck to look over at him but could only see blankets. "That he's…uh, a wizard."

After a moment, Minerva replied carefully, "It is Albus' wish that Harry not know…the _exact_ circumstances of his parents' death." She sighed. "That is, we haven't told you exactly what happened as of yet. Would your prefer that you learn now or later?"

"Now!" Maureen shouted. Vanessa gave her a stern look, but it was Richard who answered.

"I would like to know," her father said in a quiet voice, "but not now. I don't think that I could hold too much information from Harry, even if someone asked me to." Maureen deflated.

Minerva nodded. "Understandable. However, I do not think that Harry should be restrained from the information you already know. He should know from the beginning that he is indeed adopted, but other than that, do not readily volunteer things to him. Allow him to come to you. It is common for a young wizard to exhibit some magical tendencies – nothing too intense, just making things move or making his hair grow – and when he has questions about that, answer them. Other than that, don't volunteer too much." She hesitated for a moment. "Harry is…very special. If he grows up in different circumstances, he could develop a large ego. It's important that Harry grows up humble and modest about himself and his past."

Vanessa and Richard nodded in agreement; Maureen glanced between them, still confused. What was wrong with having an ego?

The front door opened again. Albus walked in, his wand out of sight. "Your house has more safety charms than seems possible," he said with a slight smile. "Harry will be protected here, as long as he is with you."

His words comforted Maureen somehow. She looked protectively at the little bundle of blankets. _My little brother, _she thought happily._ You're all mine. I will protect you, I promise._

"I do believe everything has been made clear to them, Albus," Minerva said, standing up and adjusting her robes as if she was readying to leave.

Maureen suddenly remembered – "Yesterday this weird thing happened," she blurted out quickly. Albus and Minerva looked curiously at her. "I was getting ready for Halloween – Mom was doing my costume – and, um, there was like – this air, it kind of exploded – " Maureen was so pumped up on sugar and adrenaline that she had a hard time organizing her thoughts. "It exploded outwards – it was weird," she finished lamely.

Albus considered this for a moment. "If you are asking me if I know exactly what happened," he said, "I don't know. However, it does sound as if that was Lily's blood protection coming into effect."

"So – if Harry's relatives hadn't rejected him – " Maureen tried to put her thoughts together in a coherent way. "They would go their whole lives protected from…uh…Voldemort or whatever, right?"

Both guests actually looked amused at this. "Yes, I suppose," Minerva said dryly. "Think of it, those horrible Muggles protected from something they don't even know about…" She looked on the verge of smirking.

"Cool," Maureen breathed. Her mind was racing with all the events of the night, but Albus and Minerva obviously had to leave. Before they could move an inch, however, Maureen blurted out, "Where are you going?"

Albus regarded her with a slight smile. "I'm sure this won't be the last time we speak," he said calmly. "Take care of Harry." He cast one thinly masked protective look towards the baby before saying his goodbyes to Vanessa and Robert and striding towards the door.

"We will take care of all the paperwork," Minerva promised. "Harry is yours now." When she said those words, Maureen felt as if Minerva was talking right to her.

_Harry is yours now_. Maureen smiled slightly. _Harry is mine now._


	3. A Journey To The Past

_Living In America  
_By: Neener!  
---

Notes: Thank you SO MUCH for the reviews, guys. :hearts: They really made my week so happy, especially since I'm a bit sad about getting ready of my old copy of GUB. :sigh: I know I should be happy that it's finally leaving, but I have a very strong attachment to it. Oh well.

Oh, and to answer some questions a reviewer had – yes, the RENT plotline is going to be exactly the same, except with the insertion of Harry. Maureen will break up with Mark for Joanne; Collins and Angel will meet and fall in love; Roger, Mimi, Angel, and Collins will have HIV. However, I am going to assume some things about the Bohemians' past. For example, I always thought Benny and Maureen had dated because she always seemed to be exceptionally bitter towards him. Also, Benny is not going to be "the bad guy". I happen to love Benny, and even though I don't like how he is in RENT, I can understand where he's coming from. Also I'm a little sketchy on timelines for RENT… I have the Harry Potter Lexicon to rely on for Harry's life, but I'm mostly just estimating dates for the RENT part of the story.

Uh, yeah. :done rambling: I hope you like this chapter! It's not going to be too much action…I didn't want to write Harry's childhood, so I'm sort of skipping ahead about, ah, six years? Yep, it's been six years since Harry has arrived with Maureen; you'll get to see what his childhood is like. Maureen is about to head off to college. The next chapter will contain lots of Benny and Collins and Harry interaction, hurrah!

Yeah, and the chapter title is from Anastasia :awkward chuckle: Hahha. It fits though, you'll see. :D

:phew: That was long! Sorry! Be sure to review:hugs all:

* * *

**CHAPTER TWO  
**a journey to the past

July 31, 1987.

Richard sat down heavily next to his wife on the couch and handed her the flimsy paper plate, which was piled high with frosted cake. Vanessa took the plate from him and prodded at it with her plastic fork, wrinkling her nose.

"The cake is really good, Maureen," the little boy on the floor said, licking his frosted fingers as he smiled up at the girl next to him. Both had dark hair that stuck out in every direction and their lips were covered with chocolate crumbs. At first glance, they looked so alike that they could have been brother and sister; however, upon closer inspection, it was clear that that was not the case. But at that moment, they wore identical expressions of excitement and amusement.

"You've got cake all over your face, you little bugger," Maureen replied, ruffling his hair with her free hand as her other balanced a plate of birthday cake. He elbowed her. "_Harry!_ You're all gross!"

Harry grinned at her. "You are too!" They engaged in a staring contest for several moments before Harry looked away, still giggling. "The cake _is_ really good."

Maureen puffed out her chest proudly. "Of course! I made it!"

Harry rolled his eyes, but before either could say anything else, Richard interrupted, "Maureen, please put the video in. We'd like to do this before you leave."

At the word_ leave_, Harry's face darkened and he instinctively moved closer to Maureen and leaned into her. Her face also turned from cheerful to sad and she leaned towards him as well before sliding away and pushing in a videotape labled "Harry Part One".

As the television blinked, signaling the beginning of the home movie, Vanessa (her cake still untouched) piped in, "You're sure you don't want to watch videos of your childhood, Maureen?" She sounded hopeful, but Maureen rolled her eyes.

"Mom, we've gone over this like, eight times," she said in a long-suffering voice. "I was a fat, ugly baby, and I would rather not be reminded of that three days before I leave for college."

"Shh, I'm coming on!" Harry said assertively, swallowing another forkful of his birthday cake and pointing at the television screen. Richard and Vanessa settled into the couch; Maureen and Harry leaned back against the coffee table and balanced their cake on their outstretched legs.

On the television before them, a video began playing of a small boy, standing in a white crib and rattling the bars as if he was in prison. His face wasn't screwed up in a howl of discomfort; he was merely observing his surroundings as if mildly amused. He lifted his foot, clad in feetie pajamas, and briefly looked at it before looking back at the camera.

"Here we have Harry," Vanessa's voice came as she steadily operated the video camera. Harry made a cooing noise at the sound of her voice. "Two nights ago we adopted him and he seems to like us pretty well." The camera focused on Harry for several more seconds as he explored the area in his crib, toddling on small feet, until a young girl wearing an overlarge red towel, her hair dripping, entered the room. The camera jumped as the young Maureen entered.

"Mom, you're a spaz," present-day Maureen observed.

Vanessa ignored her.

On camera, Vanessa focused on Maureen for a moment. She rolled her eyes. "Mom, if you want to film Harry, take him downstairs," she said in a chiding voice. "You can't keep coming into my room like this and staring at him."

"Sorry, _Mom_," Vanessa said in a tone that clearly suggested she was rolling her eyes. The camera went back to Harry for a few seconds before shutting off.

There was a moment of darkness on the television before another image popped up, this one of Harry yet again, standing on the couch in the living room with his tiny fisted hands on his hips, his face contorted into a pout. Richard, sitting beside him, had his face in his hands, but he didn't look upset – just tired. He was wearing a bathrobe and his dark hair was sticking up in every single direction.

"Here's Harry and Richard," Vanessa's voice sang as she zoomed in a little on the small boy, "at about eleven…" There was a short pause. "Four minutes after eleven. Maureen went to the movies with her friend and is not yet back."

"For christsakes, 'Ness, do you have to film every single thing he does?" Richard grumbled, rubbing his eyes.

"I do not!" Vanessa said indignantly. "For the record, I do not film everything he does. Just the cute things."

"This is not cute," Richard responded, but Vanessa talked over him in a bit louder voice.

"Anyway, Harry would not go to sleep until Maureen gave him an airplane ride," she continued. "Unfortunately, Harry is very persistent about this sort of thing."

Harry gave her the best glare he could muster. "Where Maureen!" he demanded. Richard sighed deeply.

"Harry is almost two years old now," Vanessa added as an afterthought.

Richard muttered something under his breath just as the door flew open. Maureen posed dramatically in the doorway, wearing sunglasses despite the darkness outside. Harry squealed and pumped his small fists in the air with elation. "Maureen!" he yelled. Richard buried his face in the heels of his hands, yawning. Vanessa chuckled lightly. "Airplane!"

Maureen seemed to take this particular assignment with grave determination. She dropped her purse on the ground and threw off her coat, facing Harry with her face set like they were about to dance an elaborate tango. She took an exagerrated step forward, passing between her father and the coffee table, and extended her right hand. Harry, grinning ear to ear, placed his hand in hers.

Maureen scooped the little boy up, holding his ribs so he was facing the floor, and made a whirring noise. "It looks like we have to get these homeless animals to their homes!" she cried melodramatically. "Hurry, Harry-plane! Let's pick the animals up!" He stretched his arms out so he looked like a bird, and Maureen rushed off behind the couch, holding him about two feet off of the ground, and continued to make rushing plane noises. Richard stifled a groan.

Vanessa, however, was laughing, and so was Harry. When they emerged again from behind the couch, Harry had his arms filled with little stuffed animals. "Here's the first house, Harry!" Maureen shouted. Richard winced. "Drop the pet!" Harry gingerly placed the animal on Maureen's backpack as they raced by. This continued for another few minutes, with Maureen occasionally taking Harry to the back of the couch again to retrieve more "homeless pets". When a sufficient amount of toys were scattered around the room, Maureen shrieked, "Oh no, Harry-plane, your engines are on fire! We have to get the animals to safety before you explode!"

Harry squealed his approval and the two of them disappeared up the stairs, shrieking at the top of their lungs. Richard glared at the camera.

"Where does she come up with this stuff?" Vanessa asked her husband. "She has such an imagination."

There was screaming from upstairs, and then the sound of Maureen mimicking an explosion. "Oh no, we died!" she yelped. Harry, however, was laughing. "Looks like we have to go to bed."

Vanessa zoomed in on her husband and then the screen went black.

Present-day Maureen commented, "I don't remember anyone playing with me when I was younger."

"You didn't want to be played with," Richard told her, smiling at her. "You liked to boss us around and make us pretend to be your humble servants."

Maureen said matter of factly, "That's what I consider playing."

Her parents laughed as the television flashed to yet another scene, this one being filmed from inside, whereas the subjects of the movie were outside. It was winter and the backyard was coated with snow; the bare tree outside had icicles hanging from it. A taller Maureen than before, with longer, curlier hair, was wearing snowpants and an overlarge snow coat, with the ugliest, furriest boots anyone could imagine. Next to her was what was only recognizable as a small blue blob.

"You look like Violet Beauregard," present-day Maureen remarked. Harry elbowed her lightly in the side.

"I really don't know why we dressed you like that," Richard sighed.

"It looks cute!" Vanessa cooed.

Back on the television, Maureen and Harry had their backs to the camera and were staring down at the ground. Behind the camera, Vanessa whispered, "What are they doing?"

Unseen, Richard replied, "I have no idea. I can't hear them."

A few moments passed before Vanessa cracked open the window and bent down, sticking the camera out into the cold. Maureen and Harry didn't seem to notice them, but their voices could be heard now.

"Cremation is much more environmentally friendly than being put in a stone coffin and buried in the ground," Maureen was saying. Present-day Maureen nodded enthusiastically in agreement. "And it takes up less space. Isn't that great, Harry?"

There was a muffled reply from Harry that they could only discern as agreement. "Now, Harry," Maureen continued in a determined voice, "hand me the matches."

There were some mumbled, unrecognizable sounds from Harry and a confused gasp from Vanessa.

"Jammers is very happy in heaven," Maureen promised. "And when we're done, we can scatter his ashes under the hedges where you guys used to play, and –"

Vanessa whispered over her, "Isn't Jammers Harry's stuffed deer?"

"It died?!" Richard replied. There was a soft grunt. "Hey, why did you do that?"

"Wait," Vanessa said slowly, "they're cremating it?"

Sure enough, there was smoke spiraling out from the ground where Maureen and Harry's gazes were focused. From the space inbetween them, small flames could be seen wavering back and forth in the wind.

Vanessa shrieked and the camera bumped up and down, but then was steadied after a moment. Suddenly, Vanessa could be seen running outside in the snow towards Maureen and Harry, barefoot, wearing only a bathrobe, screeching at the top of her lungs.

Robert's amused voice came, "Well, this certainly is interesting." He chuckled, zooming the camera in on his wife as she stumbled and fell face first into the snow next to her daughter.

Present-day Vanessa smacked her husband on the arm. "Jerk!" she exclaimed, half-joking.

Back on the television, Vanessa had scrambled to her feet and was throwing snow into the fire. In his excitement, Harry had fallen over and his small limbs were flailing as he tried to get back on his feet; Maureen, however, was doubled over in laughter. Vanessa immediately began yelling at her daughter to never start fires. Behind the camera, Richard was choking back laughs.

Sitting on the ground, the older Maureen and Harry were also laughing hysterically. "We finished burning Jammers later, you know," Harry told Vanessa and Richard conversationally.

"Are you serious?" Vanessa screeched, aghast.

Maureen laughed so hard that she nearly dropped her cake.

"Wait, more is coming on!" Harry shouted, pointing. He settled back against the coffee table and ate a little more of his cake, watching the screen thoughtfully.

Despite being only seven years old, Harry hardly remembered his childhood. He loved watching these home movies because when he did, sometimes he got snippets of things: the smell of cookies baking as Vanessa puttered around the kitchen, the sound of Richard going through the mail in the living room, the touch of Maureen's hands as she absently ran her fingers through his messy, dark hair. Harry loved his family; he loved knowing that he actually _had_ a family. Harry had realized long ago that he was lucky to have Maureen and her parents. When he had been just over one year old, both of his parents had died mysteriously, and his aunt and uncle hadn't wanted him. Soon after, Harry had been taken to live with the Johnsons.

He loathed to think about what his life would have been like in a family that didn't want him. What if Maureen hadn't existed? What if the Johnsons had died mysteriously, just like Harry's birth parents? Harry knew he would have lived out his life in England with an aunt, an uncle, and a cousin that hadn't wanted him. Would they have beaten him? Maybe they would have even thrown him into an orphanage. Harry shivered and scooted closer to Maureen. He was grateful that Vanessa and Richard had been willing to adopt him, for all of his strangeness.

Harry had had an unusual childhood, though he usually attributed it to the fact that no one could live with Maureen and _have_ a normal childhood. (Maureen usually attributed it to the strange, lightening-shaped scar on his forehead, which she said was a sign from God or unicorns or something. Maureen loved to predict the future, and never succeeded.) The young boy had often done strange things without even thinking about it.

Only two months before, Harry had returned from the barbers looking as though he hadn't been at all – his black hair simply grew in every direction on its own, no matter how it was cut – Maureen had eagerly sat him down in the kitchen and proceeded to give him a haircut of her own. At that point, Maureen had been going through her I'm-going-to-be-a-hairdresser stage, and after she had finished, Harry sorely hoped that she gave up on that particular dream. His hair looked horribly worse after she was done; she had cut back his bangs nearly to the middle of his scalp and cut the hair from the back of his neck, leaving the rest of his hair long. Harry thought he looked absolutely horrible but would never have said anything. Instead, he had spent a sleepless night worrying about how everyone would make fun of him. He wasn't unpopular, but he certainly didn't want to be, and having a haircut that looked like he had male pattern baldness wasn't going to help.

However, the next morning, Harry woke up and found that his hair had grown back exactly the way it had been before – slightly long and messy, but all there, nonetheless – and had no idea why. Maureen had been shocked and slightly disappointed; Harry had been elated.

Two years before when he had entered public school, Harry had had the worst possible kindergarten teacher of all time. At only five, Harry had known the true meaning of the word hate, and he hated his teacher with more passion than he could possibly possess but did anyway. She picked on him constantly because he couldn't spell his rather lengthy name (Harry James Potter-Johnson) correctly and he wrote his _e'_s backwards. Fortunately, Harry was able to get his revenge on her by turning her wig blue, though he wasn't sure how he had done it. It had just happened. One moment he had been glaring at her and the next, her hair was dark blue. He had gotten a lengthy lecture from a very confused Richard, while Maureen had congratulated him in secret on his "outstanding supernatural thought powers".

Even though these unusual events spiced up his childhood, they set him apart from the other children. Harry was sure that other kids his age didn't make their hair grow overnight or turn their teacher's wigs blue, and for that reason, he found it hard to make friends for fear that they would think he was weird. Besides, Maureen gave him enough entertainment for at least a dozen friends.

The boy leaned into her side and rested his head on her shoulder, his attention coming back to the television screen, but he found it hard to concentrate, his stomach tightening sadly. Maureen was going to be leaving for college. In just three days, she was moving out, to New York City, to be an actress. He was happy for her…sort of. What Harry wanted more than anything was to go with her. He tried to imagine all the crazy adventures he and Maureen would have in the city – he got brief images of them stealing a hot dog cart and riding it through Central Park – but he found he was too sad for his usually overactive imagination to think up anything. He sighed deeply and picked at a loose thread on his jeans. Maureen had bought him these jeans. He moved closer to her.

Harry liked living with Vanessa and Richard, but it just wouldn't be the same without Maureen. She may not have been the best person in the history of the world, but she always made him feel better when he was sad or scared or angry. He loved her. He didn't want her to go off and leave him. He might never see her again; what if the city swallowed her up and she never returned? He shivered miserably.

"Oh my god, this was the best moment of my entire life!" Maureen was shrieking. Harry jumped and looked towards the television screen as Maureen laughed hysterically. On the screen, Vanessa was filming Harry and Maureen in the kitchen. Harry was wearing green shorts and suspenders; Maureen was wearing a matching outfit with a skirt instead of shorts, her hair braided into two pigtails on either side of her head. Harry stood on the kitchen table, his hands on his hips, grinning widely; Maureen stood on the floor next to him, an identical expression on her face. Music began playing quite loudly and Harry began singing the words to "I Am Sixteen, Going On Seventeen" from the musical The Sound Of Music.

"YOU WAIT LITTLE GIRL, ON AN EMPTY STAGE, FOR FATE TO TURN THE LIGHT ON!" Harry bellowed at the top of his lungs. Richard, who was sitting at the table, visibly cringed. On camera and in front of the television, Maureen was crying from laughing so hard. "YOUR LIFE LITTLE GIRL IS AN EMPTY PAGE THAT MEN WILL WANT TO WRITE ON!"

Maureen could barely muster up the breath to sing, "To write on!"

Harry began doing a little dance in time to the music, rocking his body back and forth. Behind the camera, Vanessa said quietly, "It's, uh, Maureen's sixteenth birthday and they wanted to perform this song for us – " Anything else she might have wanted to say was cut off by laughter as Harry proceeded to keep screaming the words to the song. Maureen's face was plastered with tears.

Finally, it came to Maureen's part. "I am sixteen, going on seventeen! I know that I'm naïve. Fellow I meet may tell me I'm sweet, and willingly I believe – "

Before she could sing anymore, Harry interrupted, "No, sing louder, sing louder!" He demonstrated the steps of his little dance and Maureen quickly joined in. Even though only Maureen was supposed to have been singing, both of them did, screaming as loud as they could.

Watching this home video, Harry's face was red from laughing so hard. Both Vanessa and Richard were crying; Maureen seemed to have passed by both of them and had collapsed on the ground, holding her stomach and shaking with silent laughter.

Harry was struck with the thought that he always wanted to have this moment with him.

* * *

Maureen sat on the edge of Harry's bed and tucked in his covers around him. The only light came into the room from the full moon outside but Harry could make out Maureen's every detail. She was smiling broadly at him and he was frowning up at her. 

"What's wrong?" she asked quietly, cocking her head to the side.

He hesitated for a moment before mumbling, "Don't want you to go."

She smirked. "Is that all? I'll be back, you know. There's still so much you haven't learned! Who do you think is going to teach you about girls? _Dad_?" The prospect of being interested in girls made Harry wrinkle his nose, but the prospect of learning about said girls from Richard made him start to giggle. "Don't worry, Harry-plane." He smiled slightly at her old nickname for him. "I'm not going to be far." She briefly tickled his sides, making him squirm, and then kissed his forehead. "Now, go to sleep. You're going to have to help me pack tomorrow since I haven't started."

"'Kay," Harry replied, snuggling down into his sheets. "Night." Maureen pulled the door closed behind her, leaving Harry in the solitude of his room. He rolled over to face the wall, shutting his eyes. He should have felt sad that Maureen was going, but now, he didn't. Maureen wouldn't just leave him all alone to learn about girls from Richard. Harry had faith that Maureen would never subject him to that.

Smiling slightly, he drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Before you bite my head off, Harry WILL be living with Maureen, I promise. It's unrealistic for him to do so at this point in time, though. 

Review:pokes lurkers: I know you guys are there, come on and say hi:D! It'll probably make me update sooner... OR NOT, MAHAHAH. Probably yes, though. Anyway. Have a good weekend guys!


	4. Don't Tell Mama

_Living In America_

By: Neener

Notes: Thanks for the reviews, everyone:hugs: This chapter is filled with lots of awkward Benny, magical mishaps, Weasley encounters, adorable Collins, and of course, the ridiculous Maureen.

Ye gods, I haven't updated in ages. Merp. This chapter was originally going to be longer, but I decided a short update would be better than no update at all. I wrote half of it two weeks ago and am finishing the second half at 4:03 in the morning, so forgive me if it sounds a little funny. I'll try to update again within the next week or two, but after that, my updates are going to be pretty sparse. I'm going to Germany for most of February, but I'll definitely update before I go. :D

The name of this chapter is a song from Cabaret.

Enjoy!

* * *

**CHAPTER THREE  
**don't tell mama

August 18, 1987.

_Dear Mom, Dad, & Harry,_

_My apartment is amazing and my roommates are double amazing. I've never had so much fun in my life and I haven't even started college yet! Harry, you have got to come visit, I know you'll love Benny & Collins, and we can go to the park and maybe see a movie or something! Call me! 809-1007._

_Love, Maureen_

_PS: Don't you love this postcard! I would have called, but this was too cute to resist! _

Harry Potter-Johnson was sure he had memorised Maureen's postcard. He had read it obsessively since it had arrived the week before. Richard and Vanessa had read it once or twice, maybe, but didn't seem to pay much attention to it.

"It's good that she's doing fine," Richard had said.

"Maybe we can drop in sometime later this month," Vanessa had suggested.

Harry had been less than pleased with these answers. He missed Maureen terribly. It simply wasn't the same without getting to see her everyday, and he knew she missed him too.

So, he had set out on a mission.

Thanks to Maureen, Harry was very, very good at getting what he wanted. He knew just the right way to say something to make Richard feel guilty; just the right way to ask for something to make Vanessa say yes. Harry hardly ever exercised this talent of his because he always ended up feeling sorry afterwards, whereas Maureen only felt sorry when she didn't get her way.

However, desperate times called for desperate measures. Harry could feel sorry later.

Since Maureen's postcard had arrived, Harry had been acting reclusive, lonely, and uncharacteristically quiet. He silently helped with the dishes, kept his room clean, and did his homework without being cajoled into it. He went to bed on time, got the mail, ate his vegetables, and volunteered to go with Vanessa whenever she went grocery shopping. Harry knew what he was doing, and so, when he had asked Vanessa and Richard if he could go visit Maureen for the day that Saturday, both of them had said yes.

"You've been very helpful and polite lately," Richard told him, "even more so than usual."

"And I know you've been lonely," Vanessa had said with concern as she patted his shoulder. "It must be hard without Maureen."

_Score!_ Harry had thought happily.

And now, here he was, sitting on his bed and rereading Maureen's postcard. He had to say, he was very proud of himself for being so dedicated. It wasn't often that his seven-year-old attention span lasted this long.

"Harry!" Richard called from downstairs. "Are you ready to go!"

"Uh-huh!" Harry yelled back, putting the postcard down on his bed and hurrying down the stairs into the living room. Richard was jingling his car keys in his hand and smiled when Harry appeared. "Let's go!" he shouted.

"Have fun, Harry!" Vanessa called from in the kitchen. "I'll see you later!"

Richard was going to drive Harry to Maureen's apartment in Alphabet City, which she was sharing with two other college students. Harry would spend the day there and Richard would come pick him up later that evening.+

The whole car ride there, Harry's imagination ran wild. What did Benny look like? What about Collins? Was their apartment messy or clean? What did they do for fun? Would they like him? Had Maureen changed at all?

He fervently hoped that they would get along with him. He was also hoping for a little bit of adventure. Things had been terribly boring since Maureen had gone.

* * *

"OH MY GOD, YOU'RE HERE!" was Harry's first experience of Maureen's college life. As soon as he had set foot in her Alphabet City apartment, she had leapt from the couch and flown through the air, tackling him to the ground with the force of a linebacker. After hugging him for several long, oxygen-deprived seconds, she pulled away and inspected him.

"You look like you've been eating vegetables," she observed.

"I have," he told her gravely.

After saying goodbye to Richard, Maureen immediately began showing Harry around their loft apartment. It was quite big and breezy, with several huge windows that opened out onto a fire escape, and a large, cushy maroon couch. There was a table pushed into the far corner, as well as several mysterious doors heading into equally mysterious rooms. From one of these rooms, loud snores were floating into the living room.

"That's Benny," Maureen said disdainfully at Harry's curious look. "He can't hold a job, so he's always complaining about it and then sleeping. He's a bit boring unless you're terrorizing him or something." Harry wondered exactly how much Maureen _had_ terrorized Benny. "Then there's Collins, who's apparently a cop or something. He was at work all night and should be home any minute now."

She beamed at him. "I missed you!" she shrieked, pulling him into another bone-crushing hug. "I wish I could go to college _and_ live with you!"

There was the sound of footsteps and then of a bag being dropped on the ground. Maureen and Harry turned around. "Hi, Collins!" Maureen said brightly.

It was obvious that the man standing in the doorway had been out all night. There was a coffee stain on his shirt and deep hollows beneath his friendly eyes. He yawned widely but smiled at the two of them.

"Hi, Maureen," he said wearily. He looked at Harry with eyes full of meaning. "Is this -- ?"

"Yeah, it's Harry!" Maureen said proudly, shoving the boy forward in a motivational sort of way.

"Hello," Collins said nicely, extending his hand. "I'm Tom Collins, everyone calls me Collins. I've heard a lot about you."

"I never shut up," Maureen proclaimed, putting her hands on her hips with pride.

"Hi," Harry mumbled, shaking Collins' hand. "It's nice to meet you," he added politely.

Collins kicked off his shoes and disappeared into the kitchen area. "Did you eat all the leftovers again?" he called out to Maureen.

Maureen grabbed her coat and turned hastily to Harry. "Maybe now would be a good time to got to the park," she suggested, pushing him towards the door.

* * *

Harry had a great time with Maureen. They wandered around Central Park and took a horse and carriage ride. Harry even rode the subway for the first time, and was quite pleased with a man brought a trumpet onto the car and played a song for the other passengers. It was easy to see why Maureen had wanted to come here.

By lunchtime, Harry was sure he had done everything there was to be done in the city, and he was quite exhausted… and hungry. He and Maureen climbed the stairs up to the loft, chattering about their day. Maureen had plans to take Harry out to a sushi restaurant and then to go buy new clothes – "Mom just doesn't know how to dress you," she had remarked disdainfully earlier that morning – before he had to go home again.

Maureen told Harry all about Collins and Benny, about how Collins was an anarchist and Benny was always running off at odd hours to go to job interviews. Harry was looking forward to talking to them and hoped that they would like him.

All in all, Harry had to admit it was one of the best days he had had in a long time.

As they entered the loft, Collins was lounging on the counter, phone in hand. His face lit up when Maureen entered the room. "What a coincidence," he said into the phone, "she just walked in. Hold on a second." He covered the mouthpiece with his hand. "Maureen, your friend is very upset and needs to talk to you."

"Who is it?" she asked with interest. She dropped her purse onto the couch, which emitted a low groan. A young man with a shiny, bald head emerged from a tangle of blankets, blinking irritably at her. "Oh, sorry, Benny."

Benny stared at Harry, apparently trying to figure out who he was, while Collins handed the phone to Maureen and hopped off of the counter to rummage through the refrigerator.

"Hello?" Maureen said, taking Collins' place. "Oh, hi Amelia, how are you?" There was a long pause. Harry wandered over to the window and looked out. There wasn't much of a view; just more buildings. Several homeless people were standing across the street. "No! That bastard, I can't believe him!" She twisted the phone cord around her fingers and grimaced. "He was too ugly for you, anyway, you know that. Yeah, I'll be right there – " She pulled the phone away from her ear and looked at it quizzically. "She hung up on me!" Maureen exclaimed.

"Who was that?" Collins asked. Benny was rubbing his eyes. "I couldn't even understand what she was saying, she was crying so hard. What happened?"

"Her dumbass of a boyfriend dumped her," Maureen said. "I have to go over there and try to raise her self-esteem." She rolled her eyes. "Great, lucky me."

"You're leaving?" Harry blurted out with concern.

"You'll be fine." She waved her hand breezily and smiled at him. "Benny and Collins will take care of you. I'll be home by two…probably."

"Actually," Collins said, slipping his sneakers on, "I have an assignment I need to get to."

"Are you lying or are you serious?" Maureen said, crossing her arms and glaring at him. "You don't want to spend time with Harry!" she accused.

"Maureen." Collins gave her a meaningful look. "I really do have an assignment."

"What kind of cop gets assignments," Maureen grumbled, though she hopped off of the counter and headed to get her purse, which Benny handed to her before he snuggled back into his blankets contentedly. "Benny, you're going to watch Harry."

"I don't need watching," Harry said indignantly. "I'm seven!"

Maureen rolled her eyes. "Don't get into trouble. Benny," she said, throwing the blankets off of her roommate, who groaned in irritation, "make sure Harry eats."

"I'm not hungry," Harry said, just to be contrary. He sat down on the window seat and crossed his arms.

She sighed and turned on her heel. "I'll be back later," she told them, slinging her purse over her shoulder. "Just don't tell mom," she added before hurrying out of the loft, Collins close behind, who pulled the loft door shut.

Harry found that the next half hour was very boring. Benny slept on the couch, snoring loudly, while Harry stared out the window and doodled on his arm with a pen he found. When he simply couldn't take the hunger and boredom anymore, he stood up and walked over to Benny, tearing his blankets off like Maureen had.

"Feed me," he demanded.

Benny blinked up at him like he was staring into the sun. "Who are you?" he grumbled.

"I'm Harry," he told him. "Maureen said you have to make sure I eat something. I could die," he added for effect.

Benny sat up but rubbed his eyes and yawned before staring at Harry suspiciously. "There's food in the fridge," he ventured.

After a brief search of the kitchen, Harry called out, "There isn't any food! Your kitchen is empty!"

Harry could hear Benny's snores and sighed. He crept over to the couch and leaned over, before screaming at the top of his lungs, "OH MY GOD!" It had the desired effect: Benny went flying off of the couch and landed face first on the ground.

Triumphantly, Harry said, "Take me to get something to eat."

"Brat," Benny mumbled. "You're so much like Maureen."

"That's right," he declared. "Make me a sandwich or something."

"I can't make you a sandwich if there's no food in the house," Benny snapped. He stood up and stumbled towards his bedroom, blankets wrapped around him.

"I'm hungry!" Harry hollered, stamping his foot angrily. Benny ignored him and hurried towards his room, apparently to sleep more. "BENNY!" Harry shouted.

The ceiling fan that had been lazily rotating above them suddenly crashed to the ground.

Benny shrieked at the top of his lungs and nearly toppled over, his feet tangled in the blankets wrapped around him. He stared, aghast, at an equally awestruck Harry, who was gaping at the hole in the ceiling.

"Holy shit," Benny muttered.

Harry bit his lip and looked from the broken fan to the horrified Benny, hoping deeply that he wasn't going to be punished. He didn't care if Benny shouted at him, but having Maureen angry with you was one of the worst possible things you could ever experience.

"Jesus Christ, kid," Benny finally said. "I'll go buy you a sandwich."

* * *

Despite the distraction of his hunger, Harry found that nothing seemed to make Benny tolerable. It took him a full ten minutes to get ready to go out, for he had to find the socks that matched his sweater vest perfectly first, and then had to wash his face and brush his teeth. As he did so, Harry continuously complained and complained, even though he felt a bit guilty about it. Benny may have been annoying and self-absorbed, but Harry had quite the feeling that his own nagging resembled Maureen's. And to be nagged by Maureen was a fate worse than death.

When the two unlikely companions finally emerged from the apartment building, Benny looked like he was heading off for a job interview, when in reality, they were just going to the corner shop.

"Do you always take that long to get ready?" Harry asked curiously, examining how clean Benny's shoes were.

"Usually, yes," Benny replied. "No matter where you go, you should always try to make a good first impression. Let me tell you something, Harry, when you get older, this is going to be very good advice. Once you need a job to buy a car and a house, a first impression is extremely important."

"Yeah, whatever," Harry mumbled in reply, looking around the street in boredom. _I wonder how long it would take for him to notice I'm gone._

As Benny launched into a sudden explanation of inflation, Harry took his chance and wandered off. It was easy to get himself away from the talkative young man, and Harry slipped into the small crowd meandering the sidewalk and hurried in the opposite direction of Benny.

At first, Harry wasn't sure where he was going to go, but then he spotted a pretzel cart. His face split into a huge grin. Maureen had bought him a pretzel earlier that day, and it had been delicious. His mouth already watering, Harry hurried over to the cart, searching his pockets for money and coming up with only a crumpled five-dollar bill. Assuming this would be enough, Harry approached the cart, his mouth just about ready to give his order for one delicious, salty, wonderful pretzel –

"Harry!" a bellow came from about twenty feet away. Several people (including Harry himself) looked up to see a frantic looking Benny, his head shinier than usual, hurrying down the sidewalk, his gaze darting from place to place. "Harry, come back, where are you!"

Harry, feeling a panicked sort of thrill rush through him, did the first thing that made sense to him: he dove behind the trashcans next to the pretzel cart.

Unfortunately, there were already two occupants of this hiding place, both of whom had identical mops of flaming red hair. Harry mumbled an apology and made to sit down on the curb, but one of the boys waved at him frantically.

"You're going to sit on a banana peel!" he hissed. Harry looked down and saw his bottom poised right over, indeed, a very old banana peel. Harry quickly changed gears and found another spot. "What are you hiding from?"

Harry noticed that his voice sounded funny, but not in a bad way – in an interesting sort of way. The two boys looked identical; as they peered at him, Harry couldn't tell either of them apart. It was fascinating.

"My…babysitter," Harry finally answered, after searching for the right word. "What are you hiding from?"

"Our mum," one of the twins answered. Harry wasn't sure if he was the own who warned him about the banana peel or not.

"She's been looking for us all over the place," the other boy answered. "I'm George, by the way."

"Fred Weasley," the boy called Fred answered, extending his hand. Harry looked at it for a moment before tentatively shaking it. "I swear, Mum has got it in for us. She must want to be tortured to death."

George nodded enthusiastically. "I'm sure that when we go to Hogwarts, we'll have to shop in plain old Diagon Alley, not in New York City."

This sentence made Harry blink in curiousity. "Sorry, what?" he blurted out, before the thought struck him that maybe he wasn't included in this conversation.

"My brother's going off to school this year," one of them (Harry thought it may have been Fred) explained. "My mum decided it would be just simply splendid to take dear old Percy shopping in a foreign country for all his things." He said this sentence with the highest amount of sarcasm Harry had ever heard used. "My dad is here on business already, so we all came along…me and all my brothers and sister. There's a lot of us."

"It wasn't so bad at first," George added, "but then Mum keeps trying to get us to buy matching pairs of these horrible plaid pants." They both shuddered in unison. In the background, Harry could hear Benny shouting his name, and ignored it. "That was the last straw."

"We simply couldn't take it anymore," Fred said, turning to peer out over the trashcans. "Cripes, Fred, there she is – is your name Harry? I think I see your babysitter.. or rather, I can hear him.."

"Yes, I'm Harry," he said, also turning to crouch and look over the trashcans. Benny looked like he was about to die. Harry was sure he was imagining what Maureen would do to him if she found out he had lost Harry.

"Quite loud, isn't he?" George observed.

"I should probably go," Harry told them apologetically. "It was nice meeting you," he added politely.

"Maybe we'll see you around sometime, Harry," Fred said cheerfully. Meanwhile, George was looking at Harry in quite a strange way, but before he could open his mouth to say anything, Harry had crept out from behind the trashcans to reveal himself to the quite frantic Benny.

"Jesus Christ, there you are!" he yelped, leaping over to Harry to examine him. "You're not hurt, are you?"

"No, Benny, I'm fine," Harry insisted, shrugging the man's hands off of his shoulders. "I'm still hungry though."

"You can have whatever you want," Benny said in relief. "As long as you don't tell Maureen what happened," he added. "She already hates me and I haven't done anything to her."

"I don't think she hates you," Harry said thoughtfully, before getting a sinister smirk on his face and adding, "but I won't give her any reason to if you buy me a pretzel. Or two. Or nine."

"How old are you? Like eight years old?" Benny looked at him and shook his head. "You're pretty smart for a kid."

"And you're pretty dumb for an adult," Harry snapped back. "Pretzel, please."

Benny looked tempted to just stuff Harry in a trashcan, but instead he sighed deeply and complied, buying Harry a dozen pretzels to enjoy for his lunch. After deep thought, Harry decided to give one to Benny. He wasn't that bad, after all.

* * *

+: I'm not sure how far away Long Island is from Alphabet City. I looked it up on Mapquest, but without an address, they're not very helpful hah. So, I'm just pretending Long Island is about an hour or two away from Alphabet City, even though I know it's not, because I'm a nooblet and don't feel like researching it anymore. :P

Sorry if I made Harry sound like a brat. He definitely isn't going to be like that later; it's just Maureen rubbing off on him. I'll try to update soon. Happy (late) holidays, everyone!!


	5. Calm Before The Storm

_Living In America  
_By Neener

**Notes:** Sorry for taking so long to update. :sigh: I've been really busy lately, I was in Germany for two weeks. I'm very, very unmotivated to write a chapter, and it took me a lot of willpower to finally sit down and start writing again. :sweatdrop: I'm really sorry! I hope you guys like this chapter, it's just more filler.

**A Special Note To** **_Harrys biggest fan 2007_**: Um, first of all, thanks for taking the time to read half of the story so far, haha. :D.I wish you had left an email address so I could personally respond to you, but unfortunately you didn't so I'm hoping you'll see this. I have absolutely NO intention of making this fic a Mark/Harry love story, lmao, though the thought does intrigue me. I don't really understand what you mean when you say "Where is Harry?" because he's the main character. Unfortunately, you only read the prologue and first chapter apparently, where Harry is a baby. If you read on, you would know that Harry does indeed age and is the biggest part of the entire story. I'm really sorry that I couldn't please you, but I know I can't cater to everyone, so I'm sorry. I hope you find a Rent/HP crossover fic that you can enjoy. :). And if your review was a joke like my sister suggested, you did make me laugh, and you did brighten up my day. :D.

**To All Anonymous Reviewers:** Please leave your email address in your review! I love responding to you guys, and it's important to me that I can do so. So yeah.

This chapter features a cameo appearance by **BabyLezzie**! I hope you enjoy yourself :). hee.

Oh – the chapter title is from a song by Fall Out Boy. And if the title is any hint, things are going to get a lot more intense after this cutesy chapter. I may come back and change the title later, but this is it for now. Enjoy!

* * *

**CHAPTER FOUR  
**calm before the storm

January 16, 1989.

Harry was grounded. For the first time in his life, he was grounded.

And very, very sad about it.

Pouting, Harry leaned back on his bed and crossed his arms. There was nothing else in the house going on that would even hint at other signs of life. His guardians, Vanessa and Richard, seemed to have vanished off of the face of the earth. Somewhere down the hallway, something creaked, and Harry jumped.

"Unngh," he grumbled. This whole mess wasn't even his fault, if he thought about it. No, it wasn't his fault at all for getting grounded; it was Vanessa's fault for grounding him. No – it was Maureen's fault, for moving away to New York City and leaving him behind. No, not even that: it was Maureen's fault for being born!

Satisfied, Harry scratched at his arm. His good feelings dissippated only seconds later. It wasn't fair to blame his family for any of this. Besides, it was only a grounding, for a week or two. Maureen had gotten far worse for sneaking in after curfew or throwing things down the stairs, or whatever.

He sighed and stared up at his ceiling. That Christmas, Maureen had bought him these plastic stars that he could stick to his walls or ceiling, and in the dark, they glowed, filling his room with dim, green light. Maureen's gift from the previous Christmas was something she had bought from Chinatown, a little dragon toy that walked jerkily around, lit up, and played music. Its batteries had effectively died from overuse because Harry adored it so much, but it still had a special place on his shelf.

Benny and Collins, Maureen's two roommates in the city, had also given him gifts, but they were much more guarded and careful. A pair of mittens, a book, a stuffed animal. If possible, Harry had even more gifts from the two young men than he did from Maureen, probably because Harry always wrote them thank you notes. Vanessa had always told him that thank you notes showed how good of a person you were, and writing one would impress people.

Harry smiled slightly and rolled over to face the opposite wall, and then sighed deeply again. He felt so restless, he hated being grounded. When Maureen was grounded, she sat on the couch and watched General Hospital. When Harry was grounded, he had to sit in his room and think about what he had done.

_All I did was swear,_ Harry thought indignantly. _Maureen does it all the time. But she's older, and she doesn't live here anymore. I guess she can do whatever she wants. But, I guess it's not just that I swore._

A guilty feeling crept up his throat. _I really shouldn't have done that. It was so mean. At least Richard wasn't too mad. Vanessa was just disappointed. I think that was worse._ Harry reached out for the pillow on his bed and hugged it to his chest. He felt almost sick. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get that morning's conversation out of his head; he kept replaying it, even though it made him uncomfortable.

The day had started off good enough. Maureen called, talking excitedly about her classes and her various adventures with her roommates, when they were around. Collins worked a lot, mostly during the night, and Benny was usually either sleeping or trying to find a job.

Then, the big problem had arisen: Maureen's birthday. After she had hung up, Harry had gotten the idea in his head that he should go and visit her. She was turning twenty, which seemed so old to him. He couldn't even fathom that age, but Maureen was there, and Harry wanted to spend her birthday with her. He hadn't gone up for her nineteenth birthday, but this was different. This was way more important.

After pitching his idea to Vanessa and Richard, his guardians were not only skeptical, they were downright resistant.

"No," Richard said firmly.

"I think Maureen will want to spend this birthday on her own," Vanessa told him.

"But Maureen loves me," Harry protested. "She loves spending time with me."

"Honey," Vanessa said in her _I-know-this-is-hard-but-I-am-your-mother-listen-to-me-thank-you_ voice, "Maureen lives away from us now, and she has her own life. Of course she loves you, but sweetie, she has friends she's going to spend her birthday with."

"I'm her friend," Harry pouted. "I'm her little brother, well, sort of."

"I know, dear, I know." Vanessa patted his arm. "It's all right. You can go visit her another time."

"It's not fair," Harry said, still in an unhappy mood. "Why did she move away? Didn't she want us anymore?"

Richard seemed concerned. "Of course, Harry," he said, glancing at his wife, "of course. But she's much older now. She needs her own life."

It suddenly occurred to Harry how old the two people before him were. There were lines around their eyes, their brows were crinkled. Richard's hair was streaked with silver.

_How old are they?_ Harry wondered, suddenly concerned. _What if they die or Maureen dies and I'm left all alone forever? I'm only eight years old! I'll have no one! Vanessa and Richard are old and they're going to die and leave me forever!_

He frowned deeply and felt tears in his eyes, even though he fought to hold them back. "I just want to visit Maureen," he whimpered, even though the argument was pretty much over. He knew there was no chance of getting his way. "It's not that much to ask."

"I'm sure you'll see her soon," Vanessa said soothingly.

Harry sniffled. "But I miss her!" He paused, and remembered something Maureen sometimes said, that usually got her what she wanted. It hadn't worked on Vanessa and Richard when she did, but maybe if he said it, it _would_ work! Sometimes he could get away with things, if he did them just right.

Face set in concentration, Harry puffed out his chest and said, "I really, really, really miss Maureen." Then he paused. "A fuck lot."

Vanessa suddenly made a face like a horrified lion, while Richard's left eye widened so it was much larger than his right. Harry was pleased. He hoped he had used the word correctly.

"Where did you hear that?" Richard choked out.

"Maureen," Harry answered uneasily. He was beginning to feel like this wasn't working out so well. "She uses it a lot."

Vanessa paused and pulled her shoulders in, exhaling like she was trying to relax. "Harry," she told him, "you can't use that word. It's a dirty word, and it's only for grownups. It's a very, very, very dirty, filthy word."

Harry frowned. "But – Maureen says it all the time." His mouth opened up in shock. "Are you calling Maureen dirty and – and filthy!"

"No, no, of course not," Richard quickly interjected. "Uh – it's just, don't use it anymore, okay?"

Harry still didn't understand why the word was dirty or filthy, but he didn't want to press it anymore. Still, his common sense seemed to have flown out the window, and he was feeling a little rebellious, so… "But it's just a word," Harry said, looking between them. "It's not hurting anyone."

"It's hurting you, Harry," Richard said calmly. "It's hurting your reputation as a person."

"I don't have a reputation," Harry told him. "I'm just Harry. I'm still building my reputation." This was also something Maureen had said. He paused. "Look: fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. See? That didn't hurt my reputation at all. I'm still the same."

Harry immediately regretted his actions at the look on Vanessa's face. It wasn't funny anymore, and she didn't look like a lion; she looked like a sad bear. His chest deflated as she stared at him, the disappointment radiating from her almost palpable.

"Harry," she said quietly, "you deliberately disobeyed us. I believe we were perfectly reasonably. That word is not for you to use. You are grounded."

Harry had never, ever been grounded before, and tears rose in his eyes. "I'm sorry!" he cried. "I didn't know!"

"Yes, you did," Vanessa said in a firm voice. "Go to your room. You're grounded for – " she glanced at Richard, who pursed his lips and shrugged slightly "—three days. No television, no phone." She locked eyes with Harry. "No Maureen. No birthday. I'll let you call her, but other than that – you're completely grounded."

Tears filled his eyes, threatening to spill over.

"Please go to your room, Harry," Vanessa said in a quiet voice.

Silently, Harry rose from his chair and walked up the stairs to his room, where he had been for the entire day, save for going downstairs to eat, or to go to the bathroom. He was miserable, and bored.

Still…even though he wanted to, Harry couldn't blame Vanessa and Richard for grounding him. He had been rude and stupid. Sighing, Harry curled into a ball and closed his eyes. His clock said it was only eight, but he fell asleep anyway.

* * *

March 5, 1989.

"Hello, can I please to speak to Benjamin Coffin the Third?" Harry said stoically. The unfamiliar voice on the other line laughed.

"Is this Harry?" she asked. Her voice sounded familiar…

"Um, yes," he replied. "Who is this?"

"Lauren," she said simply. "We've met, a few times," she added, a little quickly. Harry thought she sounded almost, well, overenthusastic to be talking to him. He remembered that when they first met, she hugged him. He had merely perceived her as overly friendly…he guessed that was the case.

Shrugging, Harry said, "Hi." He paused. "How are you?"

"Good," she said, her voice strained. Harry wondered if she was ill. "How are you?" She hesitated, and then asked, her voice quieter, "How is your scar?"

Harry paused, feeling suspicious. Okay, so she was really friendly, and had a really good memory. Either that, or his scar made a big impression.

He turned and glanced in the hallway mirror. His jet black hair fell over his forehead, but his bangs only barely obscured the unusual scar in its center. It was thin and shaped like a bolt of lightening. Harry actually liked it (Maureen had once told him it was a sign he was meant to be a weatherman, which had made Harry unhappy for days) and sometimes, people seemed to like it as well. He remembered that Lauren had been one of those people.

"Uhh – " He suddenly was brought back to the conversation, to Lauren waiting patiently on the other line. "Um, yeah, it's uh, good. Thanks."

There was a short, somewhat uncomfortable silence, where Harry could pretty much tell she was beaming.

"Here, I'll let you talk to Benny," Lauren said, sounding a little reluctant to let him go. "I think I'll see you around."

"Mmm," Harry replied, hoping he sounded agreeable. There was a short silence, and then a male voice answered the phone.

"Benny!" Harry yelled. "GUESS WHAT, IT'S YOUR BIRTHDAY AND YOU ARE TWENTY."

"Yes, I had figured," Benny responded, but he sounded pleased. "Thanks for calling, Harry."

"Yep." He twisted the phone cord around his fingers. "So I bought you a gift and everything, and I mailed it to you this morning. Do you want to know what it is?"

"No, I like to be surprised," Benny told him. Harry could tell he was in a really good mood, which consequently put Harry himself in a good mood. While it was easy to make Collins smile (if he wasn't already), Benny was usually grumpy or had a frown on his face. He seemed to constantly be worrying about something, usually his lack of a job or girlfriend, and it was rare for him to pull himself out of that. Harry was glad he was enjoying his birthday.

In the background, he could hear laughing and conversation, and assumed that the apartment was filled with people. Harry wished he could be there.

"Well Hare, I have to go," Benny said, sounding a little regretful. "I wish we could talk more, but there's a lot going on today."

Harry understood, even though he was a little disappointed. "Is Maureen around? Can I talk to her?"

"She actually just went about a few minutes ago," Benny said, sounding a little distracted, like he was looking around the room. "But I can tell her you called?"

"'Kay." Harry said his goodbyes, wishing Benny a happy birthday again before hanging up. Harry hadn't been in the city for Collins' birthday, either.

He suddenly realized that he considered three people who were all twenty years old to be his best friends in the entire world. Harry had a few friends in school, but they all kept a respectable distance. He was downright, well, weird, sometimes. Not only had he turned his teacher's wig blue, but he had ended up on the roof a few times, as well as changed his lunch from a ham sandwich to ice cream. People made excuses for these things, but their mark had been made.

Harry didn't mind only having a few friends. On the contrary, it made him extremely pleased. Maureen, Collins, and Benny treated him like a teenager, which is what he aspired to be someday.

He drew up his chest importantly and grinned. Richard, coming out of the bathroom down the hall, did a double take as he looked at the small boy.

"What's going on with you?" he asked suspiciously.

"I am an extraordinary boy," Harry told him, matter of factly. Despite not being related to Maureen, the two of them sounded strikingly similar.

Richard smiled and walked over, ruffling the boy's hair. "You don't need to tell me that, Harry," he said fondly. "You don't need to tell anybody that."

Harry's self-important grin turned into a real smile, and he returned the man's hug. At eight, Harry felt a little old to still be hugging his parents.

_But still, I can make an exception, I guess,_ he thought with a grin.

* * *

So, this chapter was pretty much filler. :shame: I have a real, real update planned, I promise. I hope you enjoyed the Harry-schmoop, at least. We're progressing into drama territory here, and there's going to be (finally!) some plot development.

Surprisingly it wasn't too difficult for me to write again, even after all this wait, so I'll probably update very soon.


	6. Homewrecker

_Living In America_  
by Neener

**Notes:** Hi guys! I'm sorry it took me so long to update, my computer was broken. –frown-But it's fixed now, and I come with an update! I figured it would be appropriate, considering today is Easter and all, to update with an Easter-related chapter! holla!

Oh, by the way – if you like Kingdom Hearts fanfiction, you should check out this new fic I'm writing. –prods- It's called Gravity, it's an Axel/Roxas AU. /end shameless pimping

Enjoy this chapter, I really enjoyed writing it. It's the longest one so far – twenty pages, and filled with drama, especially at the end. Be sure to leave a review, and if you leave an anonymous one, pretty pretty please leave an email address too? I would love to respond to you.

Oh yeah… the title is from a hellogoodbye song. By now I guess you've figured out that all the titles are from songs? Ha. If anything, the title should be an omen, muahaha. Let's just say that things between the Johnson family members are really never going to be the same after this. sigh.

* * *

**CHAPTER FIVE  
**homewrecker

Easter, 1989.

Harry awoke to the feeling of something cold and smooth pressed against his cheek. He kept his eyes shut firmly, mind still groggy, and tried to figure out what it was. It took him several moments to remember – it was the window, chilled from the morning air. Pleased with his incredible detective abilities, Harry snuggled deeper into his blankets and lay there for several minutes, lazily moving his limbs to try to get some more feeling in them. Sleep seemed to be intent in keeping him wrapped up in blankets all morning, which, all things considered, he definitely wouldn't have minded.

All around him, the apartment was quiet_. It must be early_, he thought, but he didn't dare open his eyes, preferring instead to daydream. There was the sound of a shower running several rooms away, of cars driving past outside, of the occupants of the apartment downstairs getting ready for their day. It was Easter morning – surely, they had plans. Or not. Maybe they were just going to stay inside and make devilled eggs, like he was going to.

Harry smiled slightly and stretched his feet out. Sure enough, at the bottom of his blankets was what felt like a basket, no doubt filled with fake grass and chocolate. He knew that as soon as Maureen was up, the two of them would hurry around the apartment, looking for brightly colored eggs. It was their tradition: Maureen dyed eggs, hid them, and then helped Harry look for them. They were usually hidden in the strangest places. He had once found one that she had slipped into a Snapple bottle, filled to the top with iced tea. The conversation that had ensued afterwards, where Maureen showed him how to fit an egg through the neck of the bottle, had fascinated him. He wondered what sort of things she would come up with today.

The shower went off; there was a pause of several moments, and then a door opening and shutting. He could hear quiet voices in the kitchen – Maureen and Collins. Benny wouldn't be up until noon.

Harry was suddenly rushed with a feeling of warmth. It was a holiday, he was about to eat a ton of chocolate and engage in an Easter egg hunt, and later, he would eat devilled eggs with his best friend in the entire world and watch Easter Parade and listen to her sing along with Judy Garland. And best of all, he didn't have to go home to his parents for _two more days_. In the apartment, there were no rules except not to bother Benny when he was sleeping, and not to wander the streets alone. Back in Long Island, there were too many rules for him to count. _They are for my own good though_, a voice in Harry's head countered. _Even if I don't like them. _If Maureen could have heard him, she would have strongly disapproved.

Suddenly, there was a dull crack – something had broken. He kept his eyes shut, not awake enough to care. Maureen swore audibly, causing Harry to suppress a giggle. He was at the stage in life where the word 'butt' would leave him completely incapacitated.

"Sorry, Collins," Maureen whispered.

"It's all right," he replied. There was a short pause, and then the man said, "_Reparo_!"

"Great!" Maureen exclaimed, albeit more quietly than usual. "I don't have to feel guilty anymore!"

Harry frowned. But it broke – whatever it was… what did _Reparo_ mean? _It doesn't sound like a bad word. Maybe it's a new bad word that I just don't know yet. This is weird._

Deciding to chance the perils of the day, Harry finally opened his eyes and sat up, cracking his back in the process. He reached for his glasses and slid them on, yawning ferociously, and glanced over towards the kitchen. Collins was handing Maureen a mug, and between them, a puddle of coffee was making its way across the tiled floor. Neither of them seemed to have noticed the other occupant of the apartment.

Then, Collins pulled something out of his pajama pants pocket, which looked like a long stick. Harry frowned. _What is that? _Maureen had an ill-concealed look of delight on her face, which only made Harry more curious. Collins knelt down slightly, pointing the stick towards the spilt coffee, and said, "_Scourgify_."

Much to the young boy's surprise, the mess on the ground began to disappear, right before his very eyes. Harry blinked. The coffee continued to recede, apparently into thin air. Fascinated, Harry couldn't take his eyes off of the kitchen floor. In seconds, it was over, but his eyes were wide and his heart was pattering.

A quiet "wow!" escaped his mouth, causing the two adults to look up and see him. Collins frowned and jerked back, sliding the stick back into his pocket, while Maureen looked like she was going to drop the cup again.

"How did you do that?" Harry asked excitedly, slipping off of the window seat, all though of the holiday forgotten. "That was so cool!"

Collins straightened up and glanced between the two of them. He looked like he couldn't decide whether to frown or chuckle. Maureen had obviously chosen already; she was grinning widely, a conspiratorial look on her face. Obviously she was gaining great amusement from this conversation, and it hadn't even started yet.

The eight year old hurriedly crossed the distance to the kitchen, ignoring the cold in his feet and how he probably needed to brush his teeth and hair, and how there were probably dozens of wonderful eggs waiting all around the apartment for him to find and eat. Sometimes, he could be as single-minded as Maureen, and at that moment, all he wanted to know was: how can I learn to do that?

"How did you do that?" Harry repeated.

Collins looked in concern at the slightly younger woman, who was smiling mischievously. "Do you mind, Maureen?" he asked. Several moments passed in which neither of them said anything, but Harry knew they were communicating, somehow. He just didn't know how. He looked at Maureen's hands – nope, not sign language – and then her lips – nope, not mouthing anything – but still couldn't tell.

_Maybe they're like, connected at the mind,_ Harry thought, a bit awed. He frowned slightly. _Or maybe they're just good friends and understand each other. I feel that way about Maureen sometimes._

He waited for an explanation. Things had been passed off to him before – Santa Clause, the Tooth Fairy – and he had believed them, but he was done being lied to! Harry had to repress the urge to puff out his chest. _It's Easter and I am assertive and stuff now! I want the truth! No giving up here!_

Finally, Maureen nodded animatedly, though she stayed quiet, and Collins turned to Harry yet again. The boy was suddenly struck with the feeling that he should sit down, and a notion overtook him.

_Oh crap_, he thought as he crawled up onto a stool, resting his hands in his lap and leaning against the counter. His brain seemed to be melting. _There's no way. I must be wrong._

"Harry," Collins said, then haltingly paused. Harry leaned forward. He knew that Collins would tell him whatever he wanted, that he was just beating around the bush now, for some reason. He had always been completely honest with the young boy, and if Harry had been unsure of something that Maureen had told him, Collins would set him straight. He knew that this time would be no different.

Maureen glanced between the two boys and then sighed. "Listen Harry-plane, this is going to sound so weird. But…" She paused, if only for dramatic effect. Harry could feel his mind forming the words, even before she said them. "Magic is real."

Harry let out a tiny sigh. He felt almost relieved. _I KNEW IT I KNEW IT I KNEW IT_, his brain was shrieking. _I KNEW IT WAS REAL AND OH MY HOW DID YOU NOT FIGURE THIS OUT SOONER DUMMY._

And then Harry heard the words every eight-year-old wants to hear: "Only there's more… Harry… you're a wizard."

He couldn't help it – an insanely happy grin took over his face, and he nearly leapt out of his seat. "Are you serious?"

"Yep, I'm serious," she replied. His grin was infectious, and her own grew wider. Collins began to smile as well, his hesitance from earlier gone.

But Harry was bursting with questions. "So that means, like magic?" he asked for clarification.

Collins nodded. "Yes."

Suddenly Harry wasn't sure anymore. Could she be lying? Why would Maureen lie to him? "But… before… when I was a kid" – Collins chuckled to himself at that – "I got told that magic wasn't real."

Maureen shook her head. "No, I told you that Santa Clause wasn't real. And the Easter Bunny."

"And the tooth fairy," Harry added. He remembered that conversation well; it had upset him for days. The idea that Santa Clause was not coming down his chimney every year, and that he wasn't on a 'nice' list, was unfathomable. Harry felt a glimmer of hope. "So, are they real?" He crossed his fingers in his lap.

Maureen patted his head. "No, baby, I'm sorry," she said soothingly as he frowned. "But did I tell you that magic was real? Course I did! You're a wizard."

Harry considered this. "Okay," he finally said. "But what does that mean? I've never done anything magical." His glee was subsiding, replaced by curiosity and logic.

The woman snorted. "Oh, spare me! You have done so many weird and unexplainable things. _You are a wizard, Harry, and you can do magic_. Okay?"

Unable to conceal his sheer happiness at this, Harry began to giggle and fidget in his seat. "Wow!" he exclaimed. "This is so cool!" He wanted to ask how he could start doing it, what to do, what to say, what this meant, everything – but then he remembered the point of the entire conversation and turned towards Collins. "Okay, so… are you a wizard, too? How else could you have made that coffee go away? Where did it go? How did you do that? Can everyone do that? What else can you do?"

Collins looked at him for a moment and then thoughtfully replied, "Yeah, I'm a wizard."

"That's his job, too," Maureen interjected. They both looked at her. "What? I figure we should get this all out of the way. Collins is a wizard, you're a wizard, I'm not, but I'm still bitching, so all is right in the world."

They all laughed, Harry mostly because he knew 'bitching' was a really bad word, but then the youngest regained his composure and quickly asked, before the others decided to stop being so forthcoming, "So Collins does magic for his job." He figured he would come back to that; at that point, he was more interested in his own magical abilities. "And I can just do magic in general, right?" Maureen nodded. "How?"

She shrugged. "You've done it before… but not intentionally."

"It's called accidental magic," Collins added.

"Yeah. But trying to do it on purpose might hurt you, or something…I'm not sure. I don't think you should try it quite yet, not until you're older. You don't know what'll happen."

Harry frowned, not at peace with this idea, but then he realized that she was probably right. The idea of magic was really, _really_ cool, but also a little scary, and he definitely didn't want to hurt himself, or anyone else. He had no problem doing nothing… at least for the time being.

"But _when_ can I start?" he pressed. This seemed to be a question to field towards Collins, so that was where he looked. Maureen walked over to the counter and refilled her coffee cup.

He said, "Well, I went to wizarding school when I was ten years old – "

This only ignited more excitement in the young boy. A school about magic? How cool was that! "Balls!" he interjected, almost jumping out of his chair. "That's so awesome! Can I go?"

Maureen seemed to have spilt coffee all over her robe, and was currently spitting some out into the sink, laughing. Collins raised his eyebrows. "Balls?" he questioned, turning to her.

"I used to say that all the time to get my parents' attention," she choked out, wiping her chin with a paper towel and trying to regain her composure.

"Er, I see?" Collins replied, still looking confused, though amused. He turned back to a very impatient Harry and said, "There are actually a lot of wizarding schools, and I'm sure you'll go to one. There are a lot, all over the world."

"Cool," Harry breathed. "This is so _cool_." Then, struck by a disquieting idea, Harry reached down and pinched his wrist extremely hard.

"Hey, quit that!" Maureen said, waving her free hand at him. "If you know to pinch yourself, you're not dreaming."

"That's actually pretty good advice, Maureen," Collins said approvingly.

"Oh, I know," she said, smiling as if she were the smartest woman in the world. Maureen loved getting compliments, probably more than she loved Harry. _Okay, that's not a nice thought, _Harry chastised to himself._ You know it's not true._ "Anyway – Harry – promise you won't try to use magic?"

The young boy pursed his lips. Of course, it was every kid's dream to find out they were a wizard, and Harry had imagined this moment his entire life. But it had never really included Maureen (of all people!) telling him not to use magic. She was the one who believed in unicorns, who used to take him on hunts for tree fairies in the park, who was absolutely positive there was a ghost that haunted her room every Tuesday night between five and six pm. _She must have a really good reason for telling me not to try anything,_ Harry thought.

So, grudgingly, he said, "Okay. I won't, I promise." He paused, then added, "But I want to do it eventually!"

"Deal." The three of them lingered in silence for a few minutes as Harry absorbed this. It was only eight in the morning, but everything he thought had been true about himself was different. Still… it didn't seem nearly as important to him as it should have. He had always known there was something different about him, even though he was like most of the other kids. He wore clean clothes, he did his homework, he played during recess, he loved cartoons… but still, he got picked on. Other kids did, too, he supposed, but they seemed normal. Harry had always had difficulty making friends. The school counselor attributed it to his deep emotional attachment to Maureen. Maureen attributed it to all the other kids being buttholes, and Harry was inclined to agree with her. But now – _I am different, _he thought. It seemed comforting, somehow. He had a reason why he felt distanced from his classmates, now. He felt almost relieved.

A door opened; Benny emerged from his room, wearing rumpled pajamas and looked tired and even balder than usual. He walked like a zombie looking for flesh, when in reality, he was just looking for coffee.

Suddenly, Harry got a stroke a genius. "Oh!" he exclaimed. "Is Benny -- ?

"No," Collins said. He looked a little horrified at the thought. "Man, no. But he knows about it."

Benny yawned and seemed to notice them. He seemed to be surprised, as if he hadn't expected anyone else to be in the apartment, and then he blinked. "Good morning," he said drowsily. "A little early, isn't it?" He made a grab for the coffee pot like it was pure gold.

"Benny, you went to bed at eight last night," Collins pointed out.

"Yeah, but Maureen made me wake up at four to paint those eggs," Benny grumbled.

"And after we were done, you slept for another three hours," Collins interjected.

"I don't understand why we didn't do them last night," Benny said, talking over his friend with practiced ease.

"Balls!" Maureen shouted, startling everyone but Harry. Benny looked in mild interest at her. "I wanted to surprise Harry. I thought you like making them."

"I like making eggs, just not at four in the frigging morning," Benny muttered. He wandered over to lean against the counter, next to Maureen.

"We've got bagels, too," she told him, gesturing towards a brown bag sitting nearby. They leaned against each other like magnets, and he slid his arm affectionately around her waist.

Harry looked between them and narrowed his eyes. "Are you guys dating or something?"

Benny quickly pulled away from Maureen, looking flustered. "God, no. Of course not. We're just friends!"

Maureen even looked a little uncomfortable, something that was definitely suspicious. "Just roommates, just friends, that's it!"

But judging by the uncomfortable silence, the dark blush rising on Benny's cheeks, the uncharacteristically shy looks on the two twenty year olds' faces, and Collins' knowing smile, Harry knew that there was much more to it than that.

* * *

July 31, 1989. 

"Did you make a wish?" Maureen asked, licking her fingers free of frosting. Harry sucked off some cake off of the bottom of a candle and nodded solemnly.

"I did too," she said, smirking, "even though it was your cake and you blew out the candles."

"What was your wish?" Harry asked, putting the candle down on a little plate. "It won't come true anyway, because you didn't follow the rules."

Maureen pretended to look affronted, but Harry was grinning widely, and she reached out and rumpled his hair, leaving a smear of frosting on his forehead, across his scar. He took a jab at her under the table, succeeding in ninja-kicking her shin.

"Hey, Mom?" Maureen called, helping herself to a piece of cake.

Vanessa appeared in the archway between the living room and kitchen, holding a wrapped present. "Yes?"

"How many pieces of cake can I have?" She made puppy-dog eyes at her mother, who frowned.

"You already had two," Vanessa told her, "and eating too much will make you sick, and will make you gain weight. You're so skinny, Maureen" – Maureen made a face – "but too much cake will make you fat."

"It's only a few pieces," Maureen said breezily, helping herself to another one. "Besides, I'll be hot whether I'm fat or not."

Harry laughed, but Vanessa rolled her eyes and placed the gift on the table. "There are a few more I'll bring out later."

"Kay." Vanessa disappeared out into the living room again, and Maureen cut Harry another piece of cake.

"Harry-plane, you only live once," she said firmly. "It doesn't matter what you look like as long as you have fun."

Harry smiled at her and grabbed a napkin to wipe the frosting off of his head. But Maureen kept looking at him in a strange, thoughtful sort of way, a look that was odd to see on her face. She never looked at him like that, and it made him uneasy.

"What?" he asked, adjusting his glasses. "What're you looking at?"

She rolled her eyes. "You, dummy." Harry found it hard to believe that Maureen was twenty years old. She was so immature and silly sometimes, and he thought that once you moved away, you automatically grew up and became boring. It felt a little comforting to him that Maureen hadn't changed that much. He doubted that she ever would.

"Hey, Harry?" she said, moving her cake around on her plate. He looked up. "You should come spend the rest of the summer with me."

Harry stared at her. "Are you serious?" She put her hand over her heart and nodded solemnly. "Wow! Yeah! I totally want to! That would be so cool!" His stomach filled with warmth. This was something he had wanted to do ever since forever. Three days at the loft was a treat, an entire month would be heaven on earth. Besides, spending the rest of the summer inside reading, trying to avoid the kids at his school, wasn't exactly his idea of a good time. Spending the rest of his summer eating hot dogs and frolicking with three insane grown-ups _was_.

"And – " Maureen's entire face lit up; she obviously had an even better idea. "Maybe – oh crap, Harry, this is so good, listen to this – you're going to love it – listen – "

"I am listening," Harry interrupted.

She was twisting around in her seat so animatedly that pieces of her hair pulled free of the elastic, falling down to frame her face. "Maybe you could even come live with me."

The words echoed in Harry's head over and over again. He was frozen for a minute before he shouted, "Yeah! Yeah! That would be amazing!" He couldn't wipe the smile from his face. _This is the best thing Maureen has ever come up with_, hethought excitedly.

Maureen seemed to share his feelings, and she began listing the rest of her ideas, seemingly as they came to her. "We can make you a little room, and you could go to school in the city – or we could homeschool you, or whatever – and we could hang out all the time! Collins could tell you all about being a wizard, and Benny could teach you – well, I don't know, you could learn from him how to be lame, and then avoid it – and oh man, Harry _– it would be so much fun!_"

Harry's heart was pounding with glee. He did miss not seeing Maureen all the time… and recently, some kids had taken it upon themselves to bully Harry more than usual, and school was becoming miserable for him. They stole his homework and harassed him during recess and lunch, mostly for his weird scar and strangely assembled family and strange behavior (like turning his teacher's wig blue, back in kindergarten, which no one had ever forgotten). And even though school was out, most of his classmates lived nearby, and Harry couldn't ride his bike or go out for a walk without someone coming up to him and berating him. So, naturally, he wanted all that to go away – and the city would be the perfect place to escape to.

"Yeah," he finally said, forming the words slowly in his mouth. "That would be great! Wow! It would be so much better than here."

But then he frowned. Do I really want to leave? He had only spent a few weekends with Maureen, Benny, and Collins, and maybe Maureen's two roommates didn't like him as much as he thought. Or, maybe, living with them all the time wouldn't be fun. Maybe they would get on his nerves. And Vanessa and Richard would miss him… and he'd have to start at a new school… and Maureen might get sick of him… and she might get married or pregnant and move away forever… and he might get lost on the subway for all eternity…

Would it be worth it? His instincts were telling him _no, you should stay here in your home and just go with the flow of how things are now, _but his heart was telling him _yes, it's a really good idea and you will be so much happier with Maureen and you'll have a whole new beginning and a whole new life. _

Harry bit his lip and imagined something Maureen had always taught him. _"When you can't make a decision between two things because you want them both equally, take a coin and flip it and say, whatever side it lands on, that's what I'm going with. If it lands on heads and you're unhappy, you know you want tails."_ So he imagined: I'm flipping a coin. If it's heads, I'm going with Maureen. If it's tails, I'm staying here.

In his mind, the coin spun for a few seconds, dancing across the table, before finally spinning onto its side. _Tails._

Disappointment rushed through him. He blinked, and looked up at Maureen, who had an impatient look on her face and frosting smeared on her lips.

"Yeah," he finally said. "I really, really want to go with you. Definitely." He knew this was the right decision, even if it wasn't the most logical. It felt _right_.

But the grin that brightened her face made all his doubts disappear. "Aw, Harry, I love you," she said, reached across the table to hug him. "We'll have fun, I know it." He relaxed into her arms happily. It wasn't often that the two of them had a serious moment, a time when neither was joking around and they just had each other.

Their hug was interrupted by Vanessa coming back into the kitchen, carrying yet another wrapped gift. Down the hallway, Richard was washing his hands and humming loudly to himself. Crickets chirped outside, the dishwasher hummed, the radio played some horrible rock song. Everything seemed just right for only a moment, and then it faded as Maureen pulled away, bouncing in her seat.

"Hey, Mom," she said, messing up Harry's mane of black hair yet again, "I got the best idea ever."

"Oh, really?" Vanessa said, placing the gift on the table and picking up Harry's plate. "What was it?"

Maureen took a deep breath, proud of herself, and said, "Harry should come spend the summer with me." There was a beat of silence, lasting long enough for Harry to see that Vanessa did not think this was a good idea at _all_. Then – "And maybe, okay, I hope, move into the loft."

"No," Vanessa said firmly, almost before Maureen had finished her sentence. "There is no way he's moving into the city."

Maureen frowned. "Mom, that doesn't make any sense. He's spent a ton of time there – think of it like a million weekends, only all strung together."

"No," she repeated. "He's in school, we can't take him out of school."

"Kids move all the time," Maureen said, obviously bristling with anger. Anyone disagreeing with her was in for a serious bitchfest, that much Harry knew. He had been on the receiving end of her irritation only a few times, but he knew quite well already to not annoy her. Maureen wouldn't have care if it was the President (that probably would have made it a much better argument, in fact) – she would fight to the death. Harry scooted his chair back.

"Maureen, think about this," Vanessa ordered, obviously annoyed as well. "Harry is now nine years old. He's just a child, and the city is no place for him."

"Mom, don't you think nine year olds live in the fucking city?" Maureen demanded. "Hello! Use _your_ common sense! He gets bullied here!"

Vanessa softened and turned towards Harry, her face a mix of emotions. "You get bullied?" she asked, almost disbelievingly. A blush crept up his neck and he shrugged. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Obviously he doesn't trust you," Maureen snapped.

"That's not true," Harry said in a small voice. He was beginning to feel sick.

Maureen quickly changed tack. "Didn't you notice, Mom? Didn't any of the teachers notice? Everyone thinks he's weird, and he belongs in the city with the rest of us weirdos!"

"He isn't weird!" Vanessa protested. "Maureen – please, you're being so rash. Can't we talk about this like the adults we are, with your father present?"

Maureen glared at her. "You're not even considering my side."

"Because it's totally ridiculous!" Vanessa shouted, her irritation and frustration reaching its boiling point. "You have no reason to take Harry to live with you, he belongs _here_."

"He's unhappy here!" Maureen yelled. "He said himself that he wanted to live with me!"

There was silence. Richard emerged from the bathroom, an obvious look of discomfort and annoyance on his face – Harry knew he had heard everything. His entire family was staring at him. Doubt, irritation, fear, sadness, _everything_ was mingling in his abdomen and chest, making him want to cry. Couldn't they just talk like normal human beings? Why did everyone have to yell?

"Is that really what you said?" Vanessa asked, rounding on Harry like he was some kind of criminal, a horrible person who she wanted to throw in jail. He struggled to keep his face straight, to not cry or frown or start yelling. "Harry?" she pressed.

He kept silent, his throat terribly thick and his heart pounding. Maureen's eyes were boring into him. But he didn't say anything. After several awkward seconds, Vanessa turned to her daughter and said, "See? _See?_"

"He didn't say anything," Maureen growled. "Mom, what is your problem? You're turning into a stupid bitch for no reason at all!"

"Don't talk to your mother like that, Maureen," Richard said wearily.

"She may be my mom, but she doesn't have any power over me anymore," Maureen yelled. "I'm twenty and I can take care of myself! If Harry wants to live somewhere else, that's his decision!"

"He is only nine years old," Vanessa said, exasperated. "Just barely – he's only been nine for a day! What makes you think he can decide for himself?"

Harry bristled at that. Like I don't have my own brain, he scoffed inwardly.

"I know him better than you do," Maureen countered. "I know what's best for him, and so does he. I'm his older sister, for christsakes!"

"Not by blood!" The words spilled out of Vanessa's mouth before she could stop them, like vomit. Maureen stood up angrily to glare at her mother, eye to eye, but Harry merely felt sick. Why did they do this? Maureen was his older sister, even if it wasn't biological. That was just the way it was.

_Unless… no_. He shook the thoughts from his head, but they kept coming back, washing over him. _Maureen isn't your sister, Vanessa and Richard aren't your parents, your parents are dead, your aunt and uncle didn't want you, and can you blame them? Your parents are dead and you'll never know them and you don't have any friends and Maureen lives far away and you're different from everyone else, you can do magic but no one will let you –_

His thoughts built upon themselves, getting more and more hurtful and more and more ridiculous, until his anger seemed to _explode_ outwards, before he could control it. The kitchen table cracked down the middle, the legs collapsed into splinters, and it crashed to the floor loudly, making everyone jump.

Harry was horrified. _Did I do that?_ he thought, bile rising in his throat. Before he had regained complete grasp of his bearings, he found himself scrambling out of the chair and hurrying through the living room, up the stairs, his socks thudding against the wood solidly. By the time he was up in his room, door securely shut and his body buried under the blankets, shouting had recommenced in the kitchen, the same argument looping over and over and over and over again. "Harry should move in with me!" "He's only a child, he can't move now!" "But he's not happy here!" "Who says he'll be happy there!" "I say so, I know him better than you do!" "We raised him!" "So did I, and I know him better than you, so Harry should move in with me!"

After what seemed like hours, he heard angry stomping, and hope rushed through him, hope that Maureen was coming up to his room to get him and they were all going to work this out, everything would be okay, but instead he heard more yelling, and then a door slamming, and a car starting and speeding off into the night, and then silence. He couldn't hear anything except the ticking of his clock.

Harry buried his face in his pillow and waited for sleep to overtake him, but it was hours before he was able to do so. Even then, his dreams were fitful, and he awoke often, thoughts muddled, thinking that Maureen had driven off across the country, or Collins and Benny were throwing him out of the window, or he was getting beaten up by his classmates – but most of all, that he was locked inside a tiny room, dark and filled with spiders, and he could hear voices outside, but there were unfamiliar and horrible, and everything was wrong. When he awoke in the morning, the dreams still prickled on the back of his neck, making him curl back into the blankets to rest, to try to get some sleep.

* * *

Urrrgh, that's why I like writing filler because when I write dramatic stuff, I get really nervous about it.

Anyway. I figured that if Harry found out he was a wizard when he like, eight, he would be pretty excited about it. I thought that if Maureen just said "HAY GUESS WHAT YOU ARE ELEVEN AND NOW YOU'RE GOING TO A WIZARDING SCHOOL LOL" it would just be too weird. I know that if I was eight and my family told me I was magical, I would be totally elated. I think anyone would. Hey, I'm sixteen, and still, every day I do check my mail for my Hogwarts later. I am positive it's only late and that it will arrive soon. XD.

Anyway… I hope you liked this chapter, it's a lot different from the others. Things will be resolved soon. Promise.


	7. I'm Ready

_Living In America_  
by Neener

**Notes:** Ugh, it took me so much longer than I wanted to get this chapter out! –frowns- garrgh. Sorry. I have no excuse other than that I am lazy.

Anyway. This chapter is, uh, a turning point, I guess? Dumbledore makes a brief appearance, and Harry is faced with some tough decisions and consequences. Blah blah blah, character development, BLAH BLAH BLAH WHO CARES NOT ME I WANT TO WRITE ABOUT MARK COHEN.

If I get to be sounding more and more cracked out, just… ignore it. I think I'm going a little insane. I have no idea why. I just type in capslock and slam on the keyboard all the time now. I may or may not be excessively happy. If this chapter is all over the place because of how scatterbrained I am, I'm so sorry. I'll come back and fix it. –apologetic hug-

Anyway, the title is from a song by Jack's Mannequin. Though I guess it could just be from anywhere. Whatevvaaah.

* * *

**CHAPTER SIX**  
i'm ready

The next few days passed without incident. Harry didn't do much other than stay up in his room, rearranging his books or toys, his mind hardly ever straying from the night of his birthday.

He hadn't spoken to Maureen since then, and he almost felt physically ill because of it. Was she mad at him? Even worse, did she not care at all? When would she come back? Was she ever going to come back?

Richard and Vanessa were hardly better, often trying to pull him to the side after meals and talk to him gravely, but Harry always brushed them off irritably. He chose to stay mad, though he could have just as easily stopped. He _knew_ he was being ridiculous; his family was only trying to look out for him. They wanted what was best for him. Maybe staying in Long Island was best for him, maybe it wasn't. Maybe he would be happier just living in a box and not having to make a decision.

Harry had the feeling that no matter where he ended up living, he would still feel guilty.

* * *

That night's dinner was definitely not enjoyed. Vanessa had gone to great lengths the previous couple of nights to make grand, delicious meals, but it seems she had given up. Harry pushed his mashed potatoes around on his plate and tapped out a song he had heard on the radio with his bare feet, the only sound in the whole room, apart from the hum of the dishwasher.

Overall, it was extremely awkward.

"Have you finished all your summer work yet?" Vanessa ventured, glancing at the unresponsive young boy. He merely grunted. She cast an exasperated look at her husband, who also avoided her eyes. She attempted a different approach. "We're going out Saturday night. Who do you want to babysit you?"

Harry didn't answer. Even though he knew it was stupid, he was too stubborn to let go of his anger.

Vanessa sighed. Richard muttered something that they couldn't understand, but no one asked him to repeat it.

A sudden, insistent knocking on the door interrupted their non-conversation.

"Who could that be?" Richard asked sarcastically.

Harry stared at him for a moment for he realized what the man meant. His arms prickled nervously, but even his worry over Maureen's possible anger couldn't stop him from feeling relieved – extremely, wonderfully relieved. _At least she hasn't dropped off of the face of the earth, or gotten swallowed up by the subway, or gotten herself killed by Benny, when he turns into a vampire at night and goes hunting for blood! Maybe she isn't mad at me after all. _

Apprehensively, Vanessa stood, her hands twisted in the fabric of her skirt, though Harry wasn't sure if she noticed how tightly. Richard merely looked as if he had accepted his fate, however bloody and gruesome it may be.

More knocking. Harry winced. Vanessa was moving so slowly, it wouldn't have been much of a stretch to say she was made of cement.

"Are you guys home or not?" Maureen called, each syllable punctuated by a sharp rap on the door. A few seconds passed; Vanessa wasn't even out of the kitchen yet. At this rate, Harry would have been surprised if she made it there before Maureen died of starvation. "Mom? Dad? Harry? Anybody?"

The doorknob jiggled and then clicked, and the front door slid open, revealing the young woman, who was dressed entirely in black. She looked a bit surprised.

"I guess the front door was unlocked," Maureen said, walking into the house like she owned it _and_ the rest of the world. Dramatically, she pulled off her sunglasses, and announced, "We need to talk."

"Harry, why don't you go up to your room?" Vanessa said weakly.

Harry opened his mouth to protest, but it was Maureen who answered, "This is about him. Harry, don't move." Harry promptly shut his mouth and leaned back in his chair. Vanessa looked, dumbfounded, between them, before acquiescing and nodding at the couch.

"Sit," she said stiffly. She made no offer to get her daughter anything. Richard stood, almost awkwardly, as if awakening from a long sleep, as if his elbows and knees didn't bend properly, and shuffled over to his armchair, not looking Maureen in the eye. She calmly folded her hands in her lap and looked straight ahead. The look on her face was one of absolute determination, but further than that, Harry couldn't tell what she was thinking. He frowned and scooted his chair back, even though Vanessa glared at him. The woman disappeared down the hallway, though for what, Harry had no idea. He took advantage of her absence and darted into the living room. It took all of his willpower to not throw himself onto Maureen and surgically attach himself to her hip. Being without her was so lonely.

She rumpled his hair, but remained quiet, her lips thin and pursed. Harry adjusted himself so he was comfortable, and waited, though he didn't know for what. Richard said nothing, though he opened and closed his mouth a few times, and Vanessa seemed to have been swallowed whole by the hallway, never to return.

Harry could feel the back of his throat grow thick and dry, but he swallowed his anxiety down. Things would turn out right – he was sure of it, though he did have his doubts about his family's ability to have a rational discussion. The only question was, where was he going to be sleeping that weekend? If Vanessa and Richard had their way, he wouldn't be going anywhere, he would have a safe room and a predictable schedule. If Maureen had her way (and Harry knew she would fight to the death to get it) then Harry would be sleeping on the windowseat of the loft, manipulating Benny to buy him hot pretzels.

At this point, Harry wasn't sure what he wanted more.

"What is it you want, Maureen?" Vanessa asked. Harry looked up; she stood in the archway between the kitchen and living room, her face tight.

Maureen rolled her eyes. "I really don't think your temper tantrum a few days ago amounts to a regular conversation about Harry's future."

Harry stared at her. _Who are you and what have you done with Maureen? _he thought, astonished. She sounded so… grown up. It didn't exactly make him feel any better.

"Maureen," Vanessa said, "don't be ridiculous." Maureen smirked. _How many times had she said that to her?_ Harry wondered. "Your argument…" She seemed to struggle for a moment, as if she wasn't sure what to say, before continuing, "This is Harry's home. He already goes to a school, he has friends, he has his own room, and no…" She hesitated and said, glancing between each member of her family, "No…distractions."

"Mom, that doesn't make any sense," Maureen said impatiently. "You don't think getting bullied at school and accidentally using magic is a distraction?"

"Well…" Vanessa trailed off uncomfortably and then rapidly shifted gears. "The city is not a good environment for a boy of his age to grow up. He already has a life here."

"Maybe his life here isn't what he wants," Maureen retorted.

Harry cringed, his stomach sinking. _This is not going to end well, _he thought grimly._ I'm doomed._

At that precise moment, Maureen slipped her hand into her coat pocket (_why is she wearing that in the summer?_ Harry wondered, somewhat dimly, as if he didn't have better things to be thinking about) and pulled out a small jar, filled with powder.

At first, Vanessa looked merely horrified, but then Richard said, "Vanessa, you wouldn't put – _that_ – in a jar." She still looked unconvinced.

"Collins gave this to me," Maureen announced. She held the mysterious jar up in the air and rotated it, showing it from all angles, as if she was about to perform a magic trick. Which, for all Harry knew, she was. "It's called flu powder."

"Flu powder?" Harry repeated. He narrowed his eyes. What was she going to do, make Vanessa and Richard delirious with fever and then kidnap him? That was just a stupid idea, even by Maureen's standards.

"Not like sick," she told him, seeing the look on his face. "F-L-O-O. Like a chimney."

Harry still didn't get it.

She chose to ignore his skepticism and instead turned to Richard. "Dad, light a fire."

They stared at each other. Maureen looked so villainous that Harry knew that even considering questioning her reasoning would be like punching himself in the face repeatedly. Pointless and painful.

"It's August," Vanessa said pointedly.

"Yes, Mother, I am aware," Maureen answered as she stood. "Fine. I'll do it."

Harry wondered whether or not she was going to set herself on fire and then run around the house screaming. It would make logical sense, at least, given everything else that had happened in the past few months. He shook his head and sighed deeply. _Things are just whacko, _he thought._ How hard can it be to talk to your parents about something like this?_

He frowned and looked up to see Maureen crouched in front of the fireplace, cramming wood and newspaper into the ash-filled space. _Maybe it's not Maureen that need to talks to Vanessa and Richard, _Harry thought. _Maybe it's me. _He blinked. _Do I wanna move away? Do I like it here? _Three days ago, he would have answered 'yes' and 'no', in that order, to those questions, but now, he just felt apprehensive. Staying or leaving – neither option seemed particularly appealing, though only moments before, they both had. He sighed. This wasn't how he had envisioned his summer. _Being a kid is so confusing, _he thought irritably. _Don't grown-ups know to just make it easier on us? Somehow? I don't know, they can figure it out._

"The fire," Maureen announced loudly, "is lit."

"What's the point of this?" Vanessa looked extremely exasperated.

"Well, you'll see," her daughter said. She held up the jar again, making eye contact with all three of them, and then carefully opened it. Harry watched with the utmost of concentration, but it seemed to be nothing out of the ordinary – just a jar, filled with what looked like ashes, though maybe dyed ones. Even though he wanted to pay attention, Harry felt his interest waning. He needed a solution to all this arguing – running away and joining the circus seemed like a good plan – and showing off a boring old jar didn't do anything other than make Maureen look weird.

After a ridiculously long pause, Maureen finally turned scooped out a handful of the powder and tossed it into the fire. There was a soft _whoosh_, and the flames spun outwards, before turning a strange, bright green. Maureen looked pleased – Harry felt like he had just witnessed a miracle.

_Magic!_ his mind said. _That's magical powder and it turned the flames green and Collins gave it to Maureen, maybe you can get some if you ask really nicely! What is it for? Why does Maureen have it?_

His erratic thoughts were interrupted by Vanessa shrieking, "Maureen, I have no idea what you plan on doing with that, but just stop. _Stop_. I've had enough of this magical business." She drew herself up. "Professor Dumbledore said that Harry should live a normal life. I don't think you're doing a very good job of providing that for him!"

"Who's Professor Dumbledore?" Harry asked. His voice sounded small, almost an echo of an echo, disappearing into the tense air and the weirdly tinted smoke from the fire, making him feel tiny and unheard. Only Richard seemed to notice he had spoken, and shrugged, waving his hand as if to say, _I'll tell you later._

Maureen rolled her eyes. "Mom…shut up."

Then, she leaned over and stuck her head into the fire.

Vanessa screamed at the top of her lungs and lunged to grab at her only daughter's legs, but Richard threw an arm out and halted her from going further. Harry had already leapt to his feet, heart not pounding – just stopped. Every single nerve in his body was screaming its protest of Maureen's actions; it took all of his strength to not burst into tears at the very sight. _Oh my god Collins if you killed her I am going to drop a ceiling fan on you while it's still on and Benny because you didn't try to stop her I'm going to run over your head with a lawnmower oh my god her head is gone where is she going where has she gone –_

Suddenly Maureen shifted her leg, moved her hand, as if to make herself more comfortable. Vanessa promptly began to cry; Richard dropped back into his armchair, ashen faced. Harry stared dumbly at his adoptive sister's body. If it wasn't for the fact that her head was completely missing, and her neck disappeared into a fireplace filled with green flames, yeah, she just seemed like a normal person crouching on the ground.

_If this is magic, _Harry thought,_ I don't want it anymore._

* * *

It was the coughing that made Albus look up.

He had been laying in his bed, enjoying some late night insomnia and watching _The Nanny_ when strange sounds from the living room interrupted his rest. He swallowed his lemon drop, perturbed to see that he only had a few left in his bag, and stood, cracking his elbows and knees, before making his way to the living room.

Summer was an especially lovely time for Albus, though he did miss Hogwarts. It would be only two weeks before he returned to get his things in order, to prepare for another school year. He smiled fondly. This was the time of year he enjoyed most, when he could relax and make plans for the year to come, which was always eventful. According to the other teachers, this year's general topic of gossip was going to be: Will Samantha Hawkins and Jim Shade settle their House differences and finally get together, as they should have since second year? Will Michael Christy finish the book he's been writing in Transfiguration? And, most importantly, what will the Weasley twins be like? Albus had his money on, yes, Samantha and Jim would eventually marry and have dozens of babies, no, Michael will not finish his book, but will become a horticulturalist and move to France, and, the Weasley twins are just as bad as everyone says they are.

Just weeks before, Molly Weasley herself had sent him a letter warning him of this very matter, and apologizing in advance for any havoc her sons may cause. Albus had not yet written a reply, mostly because looking at the letter amused him so greatly that responding to it seemed almost…silly. He certainly didn't want to ruin his idea that Flitwick had sent it to him as a joke. _Certainly_ Molly could not be serious when she said that they had planted bad cheese all around the house, including under the floorboards, or that they had taped their youngest brother into a cardboard box in the attic. That had to be a joke.

The living room was empty, save for Fawkes, who was sleeping in his cage. Albus frowned and went to check the fireplace – perhaps Minerva needed something? She flooed him only when necessary – and found someone's head, though they were most certainly not Minerva McGonagall.

Maureen Johnson was coughing and shaking her head, her eyes scrunched up. Albus glanced around and then knelt in front of the fireplace, curious.

"Miss Johnson, are you quite all right?" he asked, feeling concerned.

She opened her eyes and stifled another cough before a bright smile overtook her face. She was much older than the last time he had previously seen her… much older. Nonetheless, she had retained that girlish, silly charm she had had nine years ago. In that aspect, she looked no different. But how had she gotten the Floo powder? Probably from her roommate, he thought. The Auror. He wondered if this was her first experience doing something from the wizarding world – he doubted it. Even from their first, very brief meeting, he could tell that she had all the makings of a witch… just with none of the magic.

"Hi!" she said cheerfully. "How are you?"

Albus smiled at her, despite the strange circumstances. "I could ask the same of you. What can I do for you?"

She frowned. "My parents and I are… arguing." Her frown turned into a downright scowl. "It's about Harry. He's nine now, you know – he almost dropped a ceiling fan on my friend! It was an accident though… he also made a table explode. Which I think was an accident." She paused to catch her breath. "This is really, really weird. Can you please come and talk some sense into my parents?"

Albus pursed his lips and twisted the end of his beard, wondering what was going on. What argument could they possibly be having about Harry?

But after taking one look at the protective, if not downright motherly, expression on Maureen's face, Albus was sure he had an idea.

* * *

Several long minutes passed. Harry was pretty sure he had nibbled off the entirety of the fingernail on his thumb. His heart hammered explosively in his chest, despite his numerous efforts to take deep breaths and think happy thoughts.

Vanessa and Richard were no better; both were perched on the armchair, staring at Maureen's (still crouched) figure with unblinking eyes. Every breath they took seemed to rattle; Vanessa sucked in air as if through a straw, her mouth formed into a tiny 'o'. It didn't take much for Harry to assume that they were scared out of their minds.

Finally, there was movement at the fireplace. Maureen's fingers curled and pushed against the carpet; her back arched as she pulled away. It seemed to take a disturbingly long amount of time for her to finally get her head out of the flames, but once she did, she seemed so pleased with herself that Harry looked twice. What did she do? he wondered, though any coherent thought he may have had was immediately squashed by Vanessa screaming at her daughter at the top of her lungs, her shrieks soon accompanied by Richard's own bellows of anger.

"How could you do that, you scared us out of our minds! Don't you even think about how Harry could have been affected by this?" "What kind of crap was that? Maureen, you are insane!" And the collective: "If you ever do that again, we are going to lock you in the bathroom for the rest of your life, and you will never, ever come out!"

"Jeez." Maureen brushed ash off of her shoulders. "That was pretty cool, huh?"

Harry stared at her and made an incoherent muttering noise.

Only moments later, everyone's horror was magnified by at least a thousand (though Maureen just looked like she had won the lottery). Shoulders, a beard, knees, chest, legs – they were all appearing in the fireplace, knocking against one another awkwardly. Eventually, an elderly man emerged, thin, dignified, his beard tucked into his belt. He adjusted his glasses and looked around the room, brushing off his clothes as he did so.

"I apologize for bursting in," he said calmly. Vanessa and Richard made little sounds, though Harry wasn't sure what they meant. The stranger's eyes landed on Harry – and though his facial expression did not change, his eyes lit up, as if he had been filled with sunlight and it was yearning to come out. His voice sounded different, though not unpleasant. "Harry."

_Do I know you?_ Harry wondered, looking at Maureen, who was staring at the man with absolute adoration on her face. _This is just freaking weird._

"It's good to meet you," he said tentatively, before adding, "sir." He could see Vanessa nod, if only slightly, in approval.

"Oh, we've met before," the man said mysteriously, "but I doubt you would remember. You were only a baby."

"Oh." Harry noticed that the man was surreptitiously looking at his scar, and Harry self-consciously flattened his dark bangs over it. _Everyone looks at that stupid thing, _he thought. _It's just a scar. Maureen has one on my arm that looks like a piece of toast. Who cares?_ He shifted nervously in place and looked away.

After a long silence, Maureen piped up, "Harry, this is Professor Albus Dumbledore. He's a wizard. And…" She hesitated. "He knew your parents, too."

Harry looked up, a strange mix of emotions filling him. Curiosity, most of all – along with delight, fear, anxiety, sadness, hope… he had to keep from leaping up and asking this Albus everything he had ever wanted to know about his parents – how did they die? Why did they die? Why am I here? – but he kept silent as Albus turned to Vanessa and Richard and said, not unkindly, "You are truly wonderful people for raising Harry. I cannot even begin to express my gratitude."

Vanessa glanced down modestly, but Richard said, "Harry is a great kid. We…" He trailed off, glancing at Maureen. "We can't imagine life without him."

Maureen stood. "That's why I wanted to talk to you," she said gravely, gesturing towards the armchair nearest to Harry. Albus took a seat, making himself comfortable. "I think my parents would listen to you."

"Maureen, sit down," Vanessa said, her face red with embarrassment. "Please, use your manners."

"No, Mom, that's okay," she said, shooting a glare towards Vanessa, who shrank back. "I live in the city now," she told Albus, "you know, New York City." He nodded. "I live with – with, well, Collins, who's a wizard, and Benny, who sleeps all the time, and… it's awesome." She was unable to suppress her grin. "Harry sometimes comes to the apartment for holidays and weekends and stuff, and…" Here, she faltered, glancing at her younger brother with an unreadable expression. Harry looked away. "I don't think he likes living here," she plowed on. "I think he would be happier in the city."

There was a long pause. Albus twiddled his thumbs, his face thoughtful. Vanessa seemed to gather enough courage to say, "Harry already lives _here_. The city would be much too stressful for a child his age. Besides, he already goes to school… it's just a better environment," she added. "Besides – it's safer here. New York City is dangerous."

When no one else seemed to have anything to say, Albus said, "Well. You both have very good points. However, I must ask – has anyone asked Harry of his opinion?" Everyone glanced over at the small boy, who turned red. "Harry, where would you like to live?" Albus asked kindly.

Though Harry was dying to grill Albus about everything he had ever wanted to learn, Harry decided now was not the time. He would see him again – he was sure of it. There would be time for questions later.

Still, his mind raced to come up with an answer. Here was his home, but the city was more interesting – that sounded lame. But that was all he could come up with. "I don't know," he finally said weakly. "I mean… Both places are… good, but there are bad parts, too, I mean…" Emboldened by everyone's silence, he went on, "There aren't that many kids to play with around here, and I do get pushed around some at school… but New York City is more fun, there's more things to do, plus there's…" He tried to encompass all of his feelings, all of his emotions, but there was only one word that described what the city had that Long Island did not. "Maureen," he said simply.

Albus nodded in understanding. The room fell silent yet again. Harry wasn't quite sure why he trusted this stranger so much – he had only just walked out of the fireplace and sat down and listened for five minutes to what his family had to say about Harry's living arrangements – but he was a teacher, and teachers generally knew things. And there was just something about him… he commanded respect, despite his (somewhat) normal appearance. Harry had no idea why.

Finally, Albus said, somewhat hesitantly, "Harry will be…_protected_ wherever he lives, as long as he is with a blood family member. Charms and spells will have to be reinstated, but it should not be a problem. I believe it would be in Harry's best interest to stay here" – Maureen made an annoyed sound, for that was obviously not the answer she thought Albus would give – "but ultimately… it is his choice."

All eyes turned to him, and Harry dropped his own to his lap. _This sucks,_ his mind proclaimed.

Harry thought for several minutes about his decision. The lines between each seemed to be blurred – if he stayed in Long Island, he could still visit Maureen; if he moved to the city, he could still visit his parents. Either was fine by him – the question was, which was better? He wondered if he would have to decide right now, which certainly wasn't okay with him.

Suddenly, it hit him. _This Albus guy is the first one who asked what I really wanted without getting mad or guilt tripping me into it,_ he thought, looking up at him. _Why is where I live important? Why do I have to be with a relative? Why does he care? _He frowned slightly and pushed those thoughts out of his mind, focusing on the matter at hand. _I don't think I can make a decision yet._ He paused, and then smiled slightly, an idea forming in his head. _Not yet. But I will be able to soon. But I think I know what it's gonna be, already._

He cleared his throat, drawing everyone's attention back to him. "Umm…" _Yeah, that's a great beginning, Harry._ "I…well… I don't think I can decide for sure yet. I've lived here all my life but I don't know what it's like to stay for more than three days over at the apartment." Richard rubbed at his temple and sighed deeply. Maureen grinned. "So… I think… well, I want to spend the rest of the summer at the apartment."

Vanessa sighed, but Maureen seemed to be able to keep her scream of happiness down only because Albus was present. "That's great!" she cried happily. "We're going to have such a fun time."

Albus nodded at him, his eyes darting back up to Harry's scar yet again. "That sounds like an excellent choice. I will come by the apartment once Harry arrives and put up some safety charms."

"Like magic?" Harry asked eagerly.

Albus said agreeably, "Yes, like magic."

"Are you sure this is what you want, Harry?" Vanessa asked in a small voice, as if she were clutching at straws, just trying to prolong the conversation.

Maureen was looking at him in such an adoring way that Harry felt his heart soar. "Yeah," he said firmly. "I'm nine. I can decide for myself." _By the end of the summer, I'll have plenty of reasons to live at the apartment._

Although Richard and Vanessa looked downright grim, Maureen seemed like she couldn't be prouder. And, to Harry, that was reason enough.

* * *

-tears hair out- This chapter literally took me two weeks to write. –cries- I know, I am lame. I hope this was all right. I was going to make it longer, but I just want to update, to be honest. I hope you liked! I'll probably go back and revise it later… there's bound to be some serious shit wrong with it. Including, but not limited to, Dumbledore watching The Nanny. YES, I OFFICIALLY RULE.

Anyway, please review, tell me what you thought! Did it stink? Did it rule? What could I change? Who's your favorite character? I think I just want some kind of human connection and reviews are my lifeline to the outside world. –bangs head on keyboard in frustration at writer's block-


	8. Home

_Living In America_  
by Neener

**Notes:** Sorry for the long wait, guys. I've been really busy (and lazy) but things are going to start to get fun and interesting this chapter, or the next one, as this one turned out boring. Ickle-s-10 is going to finally make an appearance, albeit, a small one! And don't worry dear, you are going to be an awesome character and don't let your first appearance be deceiving! Everybody else, Leah is really a wonderful girl and very friendly and doesn't stick gum on the stairs, in real life, that is.

Oh, and I don't own _Cats,_ the musical by Andrew Lloyd Webber, in fact, I don't even like that show. It's only a small reference in this chapter but it's there. Uhh yeah.

Everyone gawk at my exquisitely creative chapter title.

* * *

**CHAPTER SEVEN  
**home

"It says her apartment is on the top floor and that a girl sticks gum on the stairs," Harry recited, glancing down at the piece of pink stationary. The ink was blurred from being clutched in his hand the entire car ride over, through two hours of traffic and lots of apprehension, but he could still make out the words: _1 pm Saturday, August 7, watch the stairs on the way up because some girl sticks gum on them. Remember, top floor! Mom and Dad, don't come up._ _Maureen._ Vanessa and Richard had nearly torn their hair out at the last sentence.

"Don't come up?!" Vanessa had shrieked. "Who does she think we are? She doesn't own Harry! Besides, what if someone tried to attack him in the stairwell!? He could be killed! Or what if he tripped on the stairs and broke his neck? He could be severely injured!"

Although Richard had not been nearly as vocal about his concern, Harry knew he was mad – or, at the very least, disappointed, which was sometimes worse. And confused, Harry was sure, because he himself was confused, too. Richard hadn't been as irritable or argumentative as Vanessa had; from the memories Harry had of the fights (he had blocked most of them out), Richard had tried to be calm and reasonable. _Is Maureen mad at Richard for not defending her? _he wondered. It wouldn't have seemed unusual. Maureen had always employed an 'if you're not with us, you're against us' policy, so Harry couldn't help but feel horrible for Richard, who obviously had no interest in bitching out his daughter, as Vanessa had several times on the phone.

"Mother, shut up," Maureen had said calmly more times than Harry could count. "Harry made his decision. Leave me alone."

Now, here they were, parked in front of the tall, suddenly strange-looking, apartment building, and Vanessa looked as if she might throw something through the windshield.

"I don't know about this," she muttered through pursed lips. "I don't approve of this at all. Aren't we even allowed to go up?"

"Not according to this note," Harry said pointedly.

Richard silently unlocked the doors so Harry could get out, his eyes fixed on the minivan parked in front of them. Harry looked away and pressed his forehead against the window to look up, to the apartment above him, where Maureen and Benny and Collins were probably all watching television and having a great time without him.

_Shut up, _his mind proclaimed._ They like you. They'll still like you even when they figure out you pick your nose. Go on._

His confidence was further bolstered by Benny, who wandered out of the apartment building, wearing a plaid bathrobe (but looking extremely embarrassed about it), his neck craning about in all sorts of weird positions. Vanessa merely looked skeptical at his sanity.

Harry quickly opened the door and leapt out onto the sidewalk, his backpack nearly sending him tumbling to the ground, and shouted a hello to the older man. Benny rubbed at his eyes and stifled a yawn.

"Hey, kid," he said. "How are you?"

"Okay," Harry said breathlessly. "My stuff is in the trunk. I only have one suitcase – oh yeah, and my sleeping bag, too, but it's not that big, and – "

Benny waved his hand and yawned again. "There are donuts and stuff upstairs if you want any… um…" He looked at the car, where Vanessa was staring at him in distaste. "Is this your mom?"

"Yeah, that's Vanessa, and Richard." Benny looked like he wanted to take a step back. "Richard, can you pop the trunk, please?" He pushed all his anxiety about his parents and his new living arrangements to the back of his mind and focused on what was sure to be a really, really fun adventure.

Instead of his father, Vanessa got out of the car, walking as if her arms were glued to her sides, clutching tightly to the keys. She passed by Benny without a single look and forcefully handed the keys to her son. Harry frowned at her but said nothing, knowing it would only make things worse.

After opening the trunk and pulling out his things, with Vanessa looking sternly at him, like an eagle stalking her prey, and Benny shuffling his feet nervously as if he _was_ the prey, Harry knew there was no turning back now.

_Stop psyching yourself out, dummy, _Harry ordered. _They like you. Really. It's true._

Benny stifled another yawn and pulled his bathrobe tighter around his body, glaring at passersby who dared to stare. Harry dragged his suitcase over to the sidewalk.

"Don't put that on the ground, honey," Vanessa said when Harry went to put his sleeping bag next to his other things. "You don't know how dirty it is."

"Well, there a hot dog over there." Harry pointed towards the sewer drain, where a completely decked out hot dog was laying. "Who would drop a perfectly good hot dog in the sewer? Someone who doesn't need it, so obviously this is a good area because people throw out their hot dogs – "

"That isn't funny," Vanessa said harshly. Benny stifled his snort. "Harry, please take care of yourself. I worry about you."

"I worry about you, too," Harry deadpanned. Benny stared at him in either awe, or horror, Harry wasn't sure.

Vanessa touched his shoulder, his cheek, and then pulled away stiffly. "Call if…anything. Okay?"

He nodded solemnly. From inside the car, Richard said, "Harry, could you come over here? No, other side – not out in the street, Hare." He obeyed, sticking his head into the passenger side window. Richard relaxed his hands on the wheel, letting them fall into his lap. He leaned his head back.

Harry stared at him for a moment, knowing to keep quiet. He _knew_ that Richard was the one who got the short end of the stick, if you took everything into account. He changed a glance at Vanessa, who was tapping her foot impatiently. Fortunately for everyone in the immediate vicinity, she didn't notice that Benny was making faces at her behind her back.

Finally, Richard said, "Harry…I love you. This is when I'm supposed to say, 'the son I never had', isn't it?"

Harry nodded solemnly.

"Well, I won't, because you're the son I did have." He smiled slightly, then lowered his voice. "Don't let Maureen or Vanessa bully you into anything. If I had acted more reasonably, maybe…" He trailed off. "I don't know. Don't be a stranger, all right?"

"Yeah." Harry managed a smile, which morphed into a grin seconds later. "You're a cool guy, Richard." _Why does this feel so much like a permanent goodbye? It won't be – no way._

"Likewise, likewise." He smiled again, although this time it didn't seem to reach his eyes. "You know the number."

"Yeah." Harry hesitantly stepped away, looking at Vanessa again. "Uh…bye. I'll call, I guess."

Vanessa touched his shoulder, nearly grabbing him as if to pull him back into the car, her fingers lightly digging through his thin shirt. "Bye, Harry."

"It was nice meeting you," Benny attempted. She glanced back over at him, although she may as well have just punched him in the face, as the young man visibly recoiled, a scarcely concealed look of panic on his face.

As the Johnson parents merged into traffic, Richard waving out of the window and Vanessa steadfastly pretending that nothing of consequence had happened, Harry began enjoying a thoroughly queasy feeling in his stomach.

Benny yawned again, then gestured towards the apartment building as a cat began yowling spastically down one of the alleyways nearby. "Come on…Collins isn't here, but Maureen baked cookies, although the donuts might be a better bet…"

He picked up Harry's bags and grimaced. Thoughtfully, Harry took his sleeping bag from the man, who was visibly relieved.

_Wow, Benny is cool and stuff, but he's so lazy._ Harry pushed his negative thoughts out of his mind, along with his hesitance, and followed Benny into the apartment.

Sure enough, Maureen's note was correct – there was gum all over the stairs. Harry didn't know why he hadn't noticed it before, although in hindsight, he did recall often having gum stuck to the bottom of his sneakers when he returned to Long Island. Benny avoided the mess with practiced ease, although it got more difficult as they went higher up the stairs. By the fourth floor, the gum was spelling out things like "PEACE AND LOVE" and "STOP, HAMMER TIME" in wads of faded color.

"Who _does_ that?" Harry wondered out loud, sidestepping a smiley face.

"This girl…she lives on this floor, actually." Benny gestured vaguely around and nearly dropped Harry's suitcase. "I don't know her name, but she's kind of nuts. She's your age."

"Oh." Harry looked around suspiciously and moved closer to Benny, imagining a troll-like girl with fangs and long fingernails, dressed in a hooded cloak.

"Something wrong?" Benny raised an eyebrow at him in concern.

"No," the boy said hastily.

"Oh, look, there she is," Benny said, pointing ahead of them with some distaste. "Don't let her breathe on you…there was flu going around the building earlier this week, who knows who's still got it…"

The girl in question was nothing like Harry had imagined. She looked like she couldn't beat up a kitten, or a moth, even – she was slight, shorter than Harry, with long brown hair, and she was pale. Really pale. _Maybe she is sick._ _Oh my god, she's going to spread the flu all around New York City, and it will be mass hysteria, and –_

"Morning," she said violently to them. Benny cringed and attempted to subtly back away. Harry narrowed his eyes and tried to figure out what was up with her, but she icily ignored him. A woman, middle-aged and plump, appeared out of an apartment door, carrying a bag.

"Good morning," she said, smiling at Benny, who smiled tentatively back. _Now, that was a greeting,_ Harry decided, immediately taking a liking to her, even as the two strangers approached and the hallway began smelling like cat food. "And who is this?"

"Uh…this is Harry," Benny said, pointing at him. "Maureen's little brother…sort of."

The woman leaned forward, and Harry resisted the urge to flatten his bangs over his scar. Luckily, however, that wasn't what she was looking at – she held his gaze for several moments, as if the only thing in the world was his eyes, before straightening again and smiling. The little girl with her tightened her fist in the woman's skirt and tugged impatiently.

"Do you want me to introduce you?" the woman asked.

The girl looked horrified. "No. I will. I'm Leah," she said, looking at Harry. "You're Harry. And I know _you_." She frowned at Benny, who frowned back. "He went through our mail," she said pointedly to Harry.

"Your mail got delivered to us!" Benny said in a defensive voice. "I did not go through it – "

"Did too!" Leah put her hands on her hips. "Anyway, you're a jerk, and _I _have ballet class, so please excuse me." She turned to stomp down the stairs, bringing her sneakers down harder with every step in an obvious sort of way.

"Don't mind her," the woman said. "She's a wonderful girl. Just…odd. As we all are."

Harry noticed her voice sounded funny – _accent, it's an accent, _Harry reminded himself, as he had asked Maureen about it after Albus had left their home. _Former home,_ Harry reminded himself. _There's a lot of people with accents around, I guess! I wonder what you have to do to get one? Maureen said throwing a Frisbee farther than a hundred yards, but…I don't really believe her. _Still, he couldn't help but envision himself with gigantic throwing arms and eventually gaining his own accent. _Cool._

"Anyway…it was nice – er, meeting you, Harry," the woman said as Leah disappeared from sight. "See you."

Benny stared after them, then shook his head. "Man, weird family, huh? They have like, thirty cats, and her – who you just met, Arabella – she just moved in about a month ago. She was a nanny or something. I forget. Maureen adores her."

Harry shrugged one shoulder. "She seems nice."

Benny made a noncommittal noise and they continued up the stairs. Two floors later, they were at the loft – and Harry was suddenly quite unable to move.

"I'm frozen," Harry muttered, staring at the sliding door in anxiety. "I can't move."

Benny looked down and lightly tapped his shoulder. "Do you feel that?"

"Yeah…"

"Good, then you're not paralyzed."

"I think it's magic," Harry whispered worriedly. "Why would somebody do that?"

Benny straightened up, then shouted, "BOO!"

"Jesus Christ!" Harry leapt an inch in the air and frowned at his friend. "Why did you do that?"

"First of all, don't take the Lord's name in vain," Benny said dismissively. "Second, you're not under some magic spell or something. You're just afraid. Things like that happen."

"Oh." Harry attempted moving his hand; indeed, he wasn't frozen in place. "Well…"

Benny opened the door, revealing the same old apartment, the windows spilling light onto the floor. Harry took a deep breath and followed Benny in. _I didn't feel this way the first time I came here. I'm not scared! I'm not, I swear!_

"—he sways his head from side to side with movements like a snake, and when you think he's half asleep, he's always wide AWAKEEE – "

"Maureen!" Benny hollered, hurrying Harry into the living room and pulling the door shut. "The neighbors are going to complain again if you keep doing that."

Maureen came out of the kitchen, carrying a spoon covered in cookie dough. She wiped her forehead with the back of her hand and shook the spoon at Benny. "You are dramatic," she announced, dramatically.

"Hi," Harry said in a small voice. Maureen brightened and did a ballerina leap over, throwing her arms around the young boy and getting cookie dough in his hair.

"Are they gone?" she asked vehemently.

"Uh...yeah." Harry patted Maureen's back lightly. "Where should I put my stuff?"

"We put Benny on the couch so you'll have your own room," she said cheerfully. Benny grimaced. "It has a bookshelf and a window!" She ushered Harry over to the couch, pressing on his shoulders so he would sit. "Let me take your stuff, I'll put it in your room."

After gathering his things, she disappeared into the next room. Benny loitered around for a moment before walking into the bathroom boredly, apparently with nothing better to do.

Harry settled back against the couch and looked around, as if he had never seen the apartment before, and he needed reference points, things to remember, as he seemed to have forgotten where everything was in his self-induced panic. _It can't be that bad, _he decided._ I think they still like me._

Maureen reappeared, a goofy grin still on her face. "Do you want to watch a movie?"

"Do you have any?" Harry noticed that the area around the television was suspiciously empty – no tapes in sight.

"Hey, Benny? Wanna go rent us a movie?" Maureen batted her eyelashes for effect, even though he couldn't see her. There was no answer. Maureen seemed to have dismissed the renting idea in two seconds flat; she began going through the junk on their table, humming to herself.

Harry gingerly sat on the edge of the couch and looked around. "It smells like hot dogs," he said observantly.

"Well, duh!" Maureen did not explain further. "Here – I found one!" She waved the tape around in the air. "You can come out now, Benny." The man immediately came out of the bathroom, relief obvious on his face. "Do you guys wanna watch Alice in Wonderland? Not as if you have a choice, because we don't have anything else."

Benny looked between the kitchen and the couch and back again, and then sighed in defeat. "Fine, whatever. But you better not burn these cookies, because _I_ want some."

"They're not for you," Maureen said hotly. "I baked them for Harry. Maybe he likes burned cookies."

"Um, I don't," Harry said.

Maureen huffed. "Well, fine. But the bad news is, I can burn all the cookies I want for you, because you're not leaving! Nyah, nyah!" She poked his sides and cackled.

"You are so immature," Benny sighed.

"Says the man-child who knows all the words to _The Little Mermaid_," Maureen said pointedly. "And not just the songs, the actual words – "

Benny reddened and slouched back into the pillows. "Just put in the freaking movie."

She grinned triumphantly and pushed the movie into the VCR before scurrying back to sit between them. Harry leaned his head on her shoulder and smiled. _Nothing's changed._

* * *

"Do you wanna come up for coffee or something?" Collins asked. 

Lauren fanned her face flirtatiously and giggled. "Why, Collins, we haven't even gone to first base yet!"

"Oh, shut up, girl." He chuckled. "No, seriously, do you? Maureen was trying to bake cookies earlier…okay, that's not going to make you want to hang out, but Harry is here now, if you want to see him."

Lauren attempted to look nonchalant and failed. "No, I…I should be getting back to my apartment." She pouted. "I hope I don't get _another_ assignment later…you're lucky you get to take time off. Asshole."

He smirked. "You shouldn't have taken last week off. Then you wouldn't have to keep making it up. I always come into work on time – "

"Hey, I'm punctual!" she argued.

"- and I only take time off when I need to," he finished, still grinning.

"Hey, don't make fun of me," Lauren said in protest, sticking her lips out in an over-exaggerated frown, and putting her hand over her heart. "You spent an hour consoling me over my romantic life, and now you throw it back in my face! You are a cruel, cruel man, you know that?"

"Hey, hey, I'm just kidding," Collins said. "Uh…you're kidding too, right?"

"Mostly." She put her hands on her hips. "You better regain your mild attitude by tomorrow morning, or I will kick your ass. That's a promise."

He grinned. "Sorry. I'm just in a really good mood. I guess that translated to making fun of you, and I apologize."

"Hey, I don't blame you for being happy. Harry Potter is living with you!" She smiled. "Anyway…well…I'm leaving now. For real." She took a few steps down the sidewalk, then turned to look back at her fellow Auror. "Thanks for letting me vent."

"Anytime, Laure, anytime. See you tomorrow?"

"Don't bring that shitkicking attitude with you," she said warningly, before grinning and waving.

Collins watched her head down the sidewalk and smiled slightly. Even though being an Auror was hard, the upside was that he got along with all of his coworkers – he had to. Trust wasn't optional.

He slipped his hand into his pocket for his keys, wondering how badly Maureen had burned those cookies.

_Crap, _Collins thought, checking the rest of his jeans pockets, but coming up empty. _Did I lose them? Shit. _He figured he could just Alohamora the door, but the last time he had done that, that Leah girl had nearly caught him with his wand out, which would have caused from severe backlash at the office. Doing magic in front of Harry Potter's insane second cousin seemed to be fine by them. Doing magic in front of their nine year old neighbor? Not so much.

After locating some quarters, Collins crossed the empty street to the payphone.

It took at least six rings for someone to pick up, then finally: "Hello?"

"Harry, hi," Collins said, relieved. "You got here all right?"

"Apparently so."

He whistled. "Harry, Harry, you're so smart, we're going to have to send you to college right now. And then you'll be on the other side of the world without us, and where will you be then?"

Harry paused. "Well…on the other side of the world, without you."

"Touché." Collins grinned and shifted the phone against his ear. "Listen, I forgot my keys. Can you throw them down?"

"Why don't I just wait for you to come up, and then unlock the door?" Harry asked.

"Because there are bad people in this neighborhood, and they might be waiting for that," Collins told him.

"But what if you got robbed when I threw the key down?"

"I'm not going to get robbed in the middle of the day. All right, Harry, do whatever you want, you weirdo."

There was a pause.

"Benny's keys should be on the kitchen counter," Collins added helpfully.

Moments later, Harry Potter came out onto the fire escape, his hair stuck to his head from the heat. "Happy now?" he hollered as Collins hurriedly crossed the street to the sidewalk below.

"I will be if there's some of that cookie dough left." Collins grinned impishly up at the boy, who dropped the keys down.

"Hurry up, Maureen is gonna wake up soon and she'll be mad if she catches us eating it, and there isn't any left.

"So we're going to eat it all while she's sleeping, and then face her wrath later?"

"It makes sense if you don't think about it too hard! Hurry up!"

Collins laughed and entered the apartment building, rolling the keys in his palm.

* * *

"So, Harry," Benny said from the couch, where Maureen was currently snoring, "you still scared? Nervous?" 

Harry ran his finger around the rim of the china plate in front of him, which was piled with burned cookies. Collins was singing in the shower.

"Nah," Harry said after a moment. "I'm good."

* * *

**Notes:** -tears hair out- Christ, this took me forever. Sorry guys. Anyway, I hope you liked this chapter, nothing really happened and yet it was 17 pages long, how do I possibly drag shit out like that. I don't really know how I feel about this update, but whatever. I was too lazy to read through it all the way so tell me if there are any stupid mistakes…on my other story (-shameless pimp-) I wrote, "You've been following me for three months" instead of "three blocks", which could be potentially confusing. So I do that stuff a lot because I am stupid. 

Anyway…I hope you enjoyed it, at least marginally. Please leave a review! Thanks guys! –kisses-


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